Business Casual
by WhatsMyNomDePlume
Summary: The lines between boss and employee, human and immortal, hero and damsel, coworker and lover, and right and wrong are about to become very blurry for Edward and Bella. Comedy/Romance/Drama
1. Chapter 1: Office Spouse

**Business Casual**

Chapter One: Office Spouse

My time working for Edward Masen was strangely akin to a comic book. If he was the superhero, I was the sidekick.

I'd always thought this was just my silly way of looking at things, but the day after Edward and I saw the _Iron Man _movies—actually, we rented a movie theater just for the two of us when _The Avengers_ came out because he wanted to watch all three and tended not to go out in public too often—I realized I wasn't alone in this way of thinking.

As soon as the end credits started rolling, Edward turned to me and said, "I'm pissed."

"Why?" I asked.

I shouldn't have asked.

"Because they totally stole my schtick. _I'm_ the rascal billionaire crime fighter the world can't seem to get enough of," he said, finishing with a roguish smile, as if to accent his attributes.

"No one knows that you are a billionaire crime fighter," I pointed out.

"_Rascal_ billionaire crime fighter," he corrected.

I shook my head. "Anyone who knows you—which, granted, is a precious few— knows you're a rascal. Besides, Iron Man wasn't a vampire. _You_ are."

He huffed. "Semantics. Just like me, he was charming, rich, handsome, funny, irresistible—"

"Ah, but he lacked the modesty you have in spades."

Edward smiled. "Good point. I knew I kept you around for a reason."

I rolled my eyes as I double-checked my Blackberry for the address of our next appointment. There was a chance Edward's tomfoolery wouldn't deter us from being ahead of schedule for once. "You keep me around because despite vampiric super-abilities, so much money you could spend eternity counting it, and a brain that occasionally demonstrates capability when not too busy being cute and coming up with juvenile quips, you wouldn't be able to function without me."

"So you think I'm cute?"

I looked up from my phone. "Huh?"

"You said I was cute." He smiled proudly.

"No, I didn't."

"Who has the infallible memory between the two of us?"

I hated this argument so I didn't answer. His smile was about ten degrees beyond smug. "I thought so."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Even if I did, your interpretation is flawed. I didn't mean—"

"You said I was 'too busy being cute and coming up with juvenile quips.'"

"Yes, that _is_ what I said but—"

"So there it is. I was being cute."

"And coming up with juvenile quips!"

"But only _after_ I was being cute."

"I didn't—" I huffed at the sly smile spreading across his face. The last time I had slipped up—I'd made the mistake of telling him he looked handsome in his suit—it'd taken us nearly an hour to get back on track. Edward may have had eternity to dawdle, but I wasn't about to let him.

"Moving on—"

"Why aren't you more angry?" he asked.

I put my hands on my hips and fixed my steeliest gaze on him. "You know, I've asked myself that question every single day I've worked for you, Edward."

"I _mean_—" he said, huffing and drawing out the word 'mean' into three syllables like a child, instead of the centenarian he actually was. "Gwyneth Paltrow? You're much hotter than she is. I mean, she's like a stick insect and you have those lovely—"

"Edward..." I warned.

He had the sense to look slightly ashamed. "You're not going to make me sit through another sexual harassment seminar, are you?"

"I don't know. We might have met our quota on those for the year. You'd think it wouldn't be that hard—" Seeing the way his eyes lit up devilishly, I corrected myself quickly. "You would think it wouldn't be that _difficult_ to control yourself, considering I'm the only employee you see on a daily basis."

"Control? Around you? Bella, my dear, you eradicate what laughably little self control I might have ever had." He leered at me harmlessly, a look that I had gotten so used to in the years we had worked together that it barely fazed me. "Still Gwyneth Paltrow? She could Goop herself to death and not be half of the woman you are. Though, I mean, quite literally in size, she might actually _be_ half the woman you are, which is a little disturbing since your figure is rather slim as it is—"

"How in the world do you know what GOOP is?"

He shrugged. "You can Google it. Anyway, as I was saying. Not nearly as pretty as you. Pepper Potts can't hold a candle to Bella Swan."

"Well, thank you. Can we leave now? You're going out patrolling in an hour and we're supposed to have that conference call with R&D about the design of the training um... _bunker_, for lack of a better term."

"Let's give it a better term."

"Like what?"

He drummed his fingers along his jaw with one hand as he scrolled through something on his phone with the other. "I don't know. The Edcave sounds stupid. Fortress of Solitude is so whiny. What's Spiderman's hang out called?"

"Manhattan."

"Oh."

"Tony Stark doesn't have a name for his place," I said. Sometimes, I liked to goad him. Just sometimes.

"Don't say that name in front of me," he hissed. "I'm still furious about them blatantly ripping off my life and fictionalizing it. Come to think of it, arrange a meeting with the director. And Robert Downey Jr." He said this as if he met with people every day, completely ignoring the fact that he was a reclusive vampire.

"Yes, Mr. Masen," I said, with all the sincerity I could feign.

Apparently, acting wasn't my forte. "You only call me that when you're placating me," he said, narrowing his eyes at me.

"Yes, Mr. Masen."

"And…" He stopped mid-sentence as something he was reading caught his eye. "Oh! The proof of the pudding, which I never really understood as a phrase, to be honest—"

"The full phrase is actually the proof of the pudding is in the eating," I corrected.

"Oh. That makes more sense; I always thought I missed out because I don't eat pudding."

"Pudding's not that revelatory."

"Good to know. Anyway, proof, pudding, whatever, it's here. Tony Stark's full name? Anthony Edward Stark."

"I don't see the link," I deadpanned.

Edward gave me a withering look. "_My_ name is Edward Anthony Masen. One would think you would know that, Bella."

I matched his expression. "I know that you hate cow's blood and prefer goat and that you once ate a lynx but felt really guilty about killing an animal on the endangered species list. I know you hate the color orange and the food you want to eat most in the world is funfetti vanilla icing. You hate _Cheers_ but love _Frasier_, you read Emerson when you are upset. You sing Andrea Bocelli in the shower, loudly. Too loudly, since I can hear it from three rooms away. If you had a social security number, blood type or allergies, I would know those too."

He regarded me for a minute before declaring, "Impressive." But just as quickly, he was back to his own madness, no method needed. "Anyway, this name thing seals it. Sue the director and writers for… defamation."

"Stan Lee is actually the creator of the Tony Stark character—it started as a comic."

"Sue him, too."

I resisted rolling my eyes. "While we're at it, there is an actor, most noted for his role on the hospital drama _ER_, named Anthony Edwards. Would you like to sue him as well?"

"Yes." He paused for a beat. "No, sue his parents. They were the ones who named him." Another beat. "You know what, just sue all of them. A reverse class-action suit."

"I'll get right on that, Mr. Masen. In the meanwhile, can we head out? If we can finish that R&D meeting today, it'll free up some of your time for tomorrow."

"Do I need free time tomorrow?"

"Well, in the morning, we have the meeting with Ms. Weber."

"Why are you calling her that? It's Angela. And why do I need to meet with her? I thought I made her CFO and CEO and COO and CD-rom and CNN and eighty other acronyms so I wouldn't _have_ to meet with her."

"Well, it's still your company," I pointed out. "So yes, you do have to meet with her. But you haven't run any hunting drills in a while. I thought we'd put you through the old course. Wouldn't want you going soft on us, now would we?"

"Oh, Bella, I would never. I'm _always_ ha—"

"Finish that sentence and I _will_ make Mackenna give you another sexual harassment workshop."

"I was _going_ to say, I would never go all soft on you. Just because I get delivered shipments of animal's blood like a spoiled house cat doesn't mean I'm getting domesticated."

"If I _could_ domesticate you, the first thing I'd do is have you neutered," I muttered under my breath. But of course, heightened senses and all, Edward heard it.

"Ouch, Bella. I may be a vampire but I'm still a man." Immortal though he might have been, I think he could sense from the look I shot him that he was quite possibly in serious harm. He cleared his throat. "Anyway, yes, R&D today. Angela and some fake hunting tomorrow. All in a days work for... Vampman?" He looked at me for my opinion.

I shook my head. "Stop trying to be a superhero."

"You're just lucky I'm on the side of good. What if I wasn't the hero? What if I was the villain?"

"Then I wouldn't work for you." I shrugged. "I don't work for evil."

"Well, that alone is incentive to keep me on the straight and righteous."

"Get up, Edward. R&D, let's go." I stood up and moved down the aisle.

"I'd prefer some T&A," he muttered from behind me.

"Never mind about those drills," I called behind me breezily. "Your free time has been filled up."

"With what?' he asked.

"I'm scheduling that call with Mackenna. For someone with an infallible memory, you seem to forget the rules of conduct with an employee quite often."

I heard him snort from behind me. "It's been _years_ since you've been my employee, Bella."

We both knew there was far too much truth in that statement. Still, I pushed away that feeling of freefall his words incited in me and casually turned my head, asking over my shoulder, "If I'm not your employee, Edward, what am I?"

He caught my arm and turned me to face him. His eyes, far too gold and compelling, were soft, and gone were all the traces of the childish humor he'd just been displaying. "You are my life now, Bella," he said, seemingly sincere.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Too cheesy?" he asked.

I raised it a little higher.

"Too cheesy," he agreed. He took an unnecessary breath and let it out. I let out a breath, feeling relief that the serious moment had passed. This push-and-pull, his jokes and my exasperation at them, the easy rhythm of our conversations were the way we had been for years now. The idea of changing it, of losing this familiarity, this comfort filled me with a type of fear I couldn't describe. But it didn't explain the tiny stab of disappointment I felt. Edward, purposely playing oblivious, shrugged and grinned brightly. "Alright. I'll try to woo you again later."

As I turned away toward the exit, I allowed myself a little laugh. I knew that he could hear it, even though he didn't overtly react.

I had no doubt he'd try again. And again and again.

That was just how we did things around here.

* * *

Hello! So this is a short, ten chapter fic that's already been written, so posting will be pretty steady. Readmylips0 was lovely enough to bid on me for FGB two years ago and this is what I wrote for her. Yes. TWO YEARS. She is patient and lovely and wonderful. So much love and thanks to arfalcon, who is my personal superhero.

Tell me what you thought? xo Anya.


	2. Chapter 2: Bored of Directors

Oh. my. god. Seriously? You guys are amazing! I am blown away by the response. It is so good to see so many familiar names—I missed you guys! Thank you so so so much to everyone who reviewed, messaged me, tweeted, who said you don't normally read AU but are giving this a chance, or even if you're just reading and lurking like a champ.

Arfalcon fights my em dashes and other wayward tendencies. Thank you again to readmylips0 for her patience and contribution.

A lot of you asked questions and most of them should be answered through the course of the story. I'll ask that you take this all with a pinch of salt, it's actually more fictional than most fiction.

* * *

**Business Casual**

Chapter Two: Bored of Directors

"Bella," a quiet voice called, floating and gentle, as if from very far away. "Bella." I felt cool fingers gently stroke the back of my neck. Slowly I woke up, but didn't open my eyes. My cheek was smashed against smooth wood, and I was seated even though I was slumped forward. I didn't need to open my eyes to know I'd done it again. This was the umpteenth time I had fallen asleep in the office I had on Edward's secluded estate.

"Bella, wake up," Edward said softly.

Still not opening my eyes, I replied, "No, I will not wake up."

"I may not sleep, but even I know that cannot be comfortable."

"It's not," I replied, sighing deeply. "But I'm in the middle of this ridiculous dream and I want to see where it's going."

I heard some rustling as Edward sat on the desk. "Really? What's happening in this dream?"

"This insane business school graduate is about to go in for an executive assistant job that she's far too overqualified for."

"Really?" I could hear the amusement in his voice. He swung his feet, annoying me on purpose as I felt little jolts against my face every time he kicked the desk.

"Yes. The salary and perks are pretty unbelievable even if her potential boss is some crazy, rich recluse," I mumbled.

"Not to mention a vampire," Edward added.

I opened my eyes to look up at him but didn't sit up. "Well, my dream self doesn't know that yet."

"Spoiler alert: she'll actually work it out on her own about a year in. Totally takes her boss by surprise."

"Really? My dream self is pretty smart," I said.

He grinned. "That you are. Not to mention the only person in the world whose mind said crazy handsome, richly knowledgeable, reclusive yet so loveable vampire-boss cannot read."

"Along with sparkling and being unable to sleep, is extensive embellishment an affliction of vampirism?" I asked, finally sitting up. I winced as my neck cracked noisily.

"Well, no person's perfect," Edward said, pulling the desk chair out so I could stand.

"I'm surprised you're admitting that," I said, getting up. I wobbled as I stood on one foot, trying to put my shoe back on. Edward steadied me by grabbing the arm I was waving to get my balance.

"Admitting what?"

"That you're not perfect."

He frowned at me. "I didn't say I'm not perfect. I said no _person_ is perfect. I'm not a person, though." He followed me out of my office down the hallway that led to the room I often wound up sleeping in.

Not even bothering to change out of my clothes, I fell onto the bed. Edward walked over and pulled my heels off my feet, tossing them behind him. "Sweet dreams."

"Too late," I mumbled. "Already had a nightmare."

"More like a dream come true." I tried to retort but I was half asleep already. Tucking me in, Edward quietly teased, "Always knew I was the man of your dreams."

Before I could reply, he was out of the room, off to roam the streets and do his best Batman impression to pass his sleepless nights.

—|—

I couldn't quite remember what I wanted to be as a child, but I was certain it wasn't this. I wasn't even sure what _this_ was, a pseudo secretary-manager-assistant hybrid to a mind-reading vampire who served as a modern-day superhero. I was part life coach, but some days it almost felt like life partner.

Still, it fit. I was not only provided with a generous salary and any and every perk that Edward himself was privy to, but the knowledge that my boss—who relied on me—made the world a better place. I wasn't just an assistant, not that Edward ever treated me like one. I was an integral part of helping an honest-to-goodness hero.

With Edward, I had found what people spent their entire lives searching for: fulfillment, trust, security.

In their career, of course. What people spent their entire lives searching for in their career is what I meant.

—|—

A few days later, I stormed into Edward's office without knocking. I was long past formalities of any sort with him, unless it was the rare times we were in the company of others.

"Edward!" I barked.

He turned in his gargantuan desk chair to face me, revealing the face of faux-innocence he defaulted to whenever he knew he was in trouble. It was an expression he wore often. "Yes, Bella, my dear, my light, my angel."

"What did you do while I was getting a haircut yesterday?"

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking..." He drummed fingers along his jawline, a frequent mannerism that drove me wild. His brain moved at least multiple times faster than a human's; he never needed that much time to think. It was simply his way of annoying me, one of his biggest talents. He pretended to contemplate my question for a minute longer before his eyes lit up. "Oh, oh! I know this one: I missed you dearly."

"Edward..."

"I missed you _intolerably_?"

"Edward, you skipped your meeting with Jasper. He's our government liaison, you can't skip those meetings."

"But they're so _boring_."

"If you don't go to them, the government will get nervous and assume you've gone rogue. You need those meetings to show them that you're still an upstanding member of society, dedicated to using your abilities for good, not evil."

"Wasn't that a line from Batman?"

"Edward—"

He carried on, talking to himself. "Or was it Spiderman? No, that was 'with great power comes great responsibility.'"

"Edward—"

"Why so serious, Bella?"

"Edward!" I burst out.

He finally stopped talking. I shot him my most intimidating look and he shrunk, just a tiny bit. A little thrill ran through me knowing that I could make even a superhuman creature cower with my glare.

"I hate those meetings," Edward said, sighing. "I have to justify and record everything I've done, account for every moment that I spend doing anything, every stock or bond I invest in, every source of wealth I have. I have to make sure the consumption of the blood supply they send me is accounted to every last drop. On top of that, despite knowing that I will always say no to any tests, I can't help but feel like they're just waiting for the chance to cut me open and see what makes me tick. Their unease with me as a whole is far too evident."

"Well, we can request a new liaison if you'd like," I said. For all our verbal sparring, Edward was always my first, and possibly only, priority. It was a rare moment that Edward revealed insecurity or gave a complaint that was actually serious and I wanted to make sure it was addressed. He didn't deserve to be treated like this.

"I don't mind Jasper, he's a stand-up fellow. Very patriotic and clean-minded and no fun at all, but a good guy nonetheless. He's just doing his job, and moreover, he's the best of the lot. He actually seems to genuinely believe that I want to do as much good as I can. It's the people that come with him—doctors and scientists and military strategists." He leaned forward, massaging the bridge of his nose. It was another meaningless gesture, but I knew this one wasn't meant to annoy me. He only did that when he was genuinely upset. "They don't make me feel like I'm a part of the system I fight for and try to improve, Bella. They make me feel like I'm on parole."

"Well, jail is exactly where they'll put you if you stop attending," I muttered, leaning on the desk next to him.

He grinned up at me and I knew the serious portion of our conversation was done. I was surprised it had lasted as long as it did. "Psssh. Like metal bars could keep me away from you, Bella."

I let out an exaggerated sigh. "I've royally screwed myself over, haven't I? Even if I ever quit this job, I doubt a restraining order would hold you back."

He shrugged. "It wouldn't. You're stuck with me, I'm afraid."

"It's what I'm afraid of, too," I muttered. But even as I spoke the words, I questioned their verity. I'd very ably and knowingly channeled my entire life into working for Edward in the six years I'd been doing it.

"You know, sometimes, you say things like that with such utter conviction, I'm inclined to believe you are as annoyed with me as you appear to be," he said, leaning back on the chair.

His eyes swept over me and I felt it happening then. Another one of those fleeting, fluttering moments where I couldn't escape his gaze, where I felt like looking at him for a moment longer would make me explode, and looking away would make me deflate. I'd become an expert at dismissing them. "I _am_ as annoyed with you as I appear to be."

"Except that sometimes, you have these involuntary reactions," he said, reaching over and gently running one finger from the top of my wrist down to the tip of my middle finger. I couldn't suppress the shiver the wracked through me but I could deny how pleasurable it was. "Like that."

But his words weren't smug and when I looked into his eyes, I felt something slam into me so hard, it threatened to knock me of the careful perch I was balanced on. "That's because your hand is cold." I tried, unsuccessfully, to keep my voice from shaking.

"Oh, Bella, in this case, it is _you_ who is being cold." Still, his words were gentle, a little joking, and they helped me relax. This was how we did things. He flirted, I spurned. It was a pattern that worked.

"Anyway, I've rescheduled the meeting to tomorrow," I replied, back to business.

"Tomorrow? What a shame. I'm busy tomorrow."

I crossed my arms. "I make your schedule every day. Pray, do tell what you're busy with."

"It's going to be very sunny tomorrow. You know how I hate sparkling."

He raised an eyebrow in defiance. No one could make Edward Masen do something he didn't want to.

I cocked one back in challenge. "Oh, I know. That's why Jasper is coming here."

No one but me, that was.

—|—

"So we can inform the board of directors that all is smooth as always," Angela concluded, shutting her leather folder.

I shut mine as well and smiled warmly at her. "Thank you, Angela. You are truly invaluable to running this company."

"I completely echo Bella's statement. We'd be something akin to a children's lemonade stand without you at the helm," Edward piped in over the speakerphone. "With that, I'm going to leave you. As always, if there's anything you need to speak to me about, you can reach me through Bella." A click signaled that he'd hung up and both Angela and I stood as I walked her out of the office.

"Can I ask you something… slightly unprofessional?" Angela asked as she walked me out of her office.

I was both bemused and amused. Though Angela and I knew each other on a personal as well as professional level, she usually conducted herself in a totally serious, though friendly, manner. "Sure…"

"Okay, I lied. It's not slightly unprofessional. It's _completely_ unprofessional."

"Well, in that case, definitely ask."

She laughed. "I've wondered this for four years of hearing his voice over the phone and as the only person that I know who's seen him, I _have_ to ask… is Mr. Masen very handsome?"

"Oh! Uh…" It was back, that fluttering inside me; but now, it appeared even at the mere mention of Edward.

"Because his voice makes him sound like he is," Angela continued, looking slightly impish.

"He…" I struggled with how to answer. The answer was yes, of course. Despite the paleness of his skin and his frequent habit of standing far too still, Edward was incredibly handsome. He hadn't aged, obviously, in the time I'd known him—one of the reasons he'd disguised himself as an agoraphobic recluse and wasn't seen by anyone but me and the precious few others who knew about his vampirism—but I suspected that even when he'd been human, he'd been extraordinarily attractive. Now, as a vampire, he was the single most appealing thing I'd ever seen. I sighed, feeling like I could at least admit this to Angela, woman to woman. "Yes. Mr. Masen is _very_ good looking."

"Is he tall?" she asked.

"Yes, about 6'2."

"Broad-shouldered or slim?"

"Somewhere in between, though he's not beefy."

"You've seen him without his shirt?" she asked, clearly curious but also a little incredulous.

This question I _really _didn't know how to answer. I had seen Edward with his shirt off and it wasn't anywhere near disappointing, except in the way it possibly ruined all other men's physiques for me. It wasn't something I let myself think of often. "I just meant that he's not thin but he's quite, er… muscular." I congratulated myself on not squeaking on the word.

"Wears a suit well?"

I gave up objectivity. "Very."

"Blonde or brunette?"

"Neither—almost redheaded, but not quite."

"Good bone structure?"

"Not good. _Great,_" I said, allowing myself to picture the smooth planes of his face. "Cheekbones that could cut class. And a nose Michelangelo might have designed."

Angela giggled and I couldn't help but join in. "Well, on that note, I'll say goodbye and thanks."

"Thanks?"

"For the image. In my head, he's the best parts of Daniel Craig, Brad Pitt, and a young Robert Redford."

In reality, he was even better. Even if I'd only ever admit that to myself on rare occasion.

—|—

By the time I reached the estate, Jasper was already waiting in the living room.

"Hello," I greeted him. "I thought you two would have begun the meeting already."

"I haven't seen Edward at all—and I've been waiting for twenty minutes. I got in because he gave me a security code the last time I was here. I paged the conference room where we usually meet, but there was no reply."

"Maybe he's in his office?" I suggested, using my security pass to take us into the wing beyond the living room, motioning Jasper to follow me. We entered Edward's office and I stopped so short that Jasper nearly bumped into me.

All I could see of Edward were his feet, which were peeking out the end of the desk as he lay on the floor. I sighed. "Edward, is this your version of a tantrum? Because I know you're not happy with these meetings, but really, this is too much, even for you."

Jasper moved past me. "Is he okay?"

I rolled my eyes. "He's fine. He pulled this same fainting act on me two days ago, claiming that the mere sight of me made him dizzy with attraction—"

"Bella!" Jasper's tone was alarmed as he circled the desk and disappeared from view, leaning down behind the desk. "Bella, take my phone and speed dial 6."

Suddenly, I had a terrible, disorienting feeling. I grabbed Jasper's phone as I walked towards them. "What's wrong?"

But my question was answered as I moved to the other side of the desk and saw Edward lying on the floor, eyes closed.

"Edward is unconscious."


	3. Chapter 3: Sick Daze

Thank you for reading and your wonderful reviews. Thank you for being willing to suspend your disbelief and for reading the silly things I like and saying nice things about it. A couple of you seemed to be confused as to a few things, like who is human and who isn't (only Edward isn't human), whether Edward and Bella are dating (they're not), how old Bella is (she's got an MBA so we're talking mid-to-late 20's) and some other stuff that hopefully this chapter clarifies.

Thank you to buriedalive0/S, and so much love and adoration to arfalcon.

* * *

**Business Casual**  
Chapter Three: Sick Daze

The truth is even Edward Masen didn't really know who Edward Masen was. Soon after I'd figured out the truth and confronted him, he told me his story. He'd woken up in 1918 with no memory of his life before, clutching the crumpled obituaries of Elizabeth and Edward Masen, Sr., who died of influenza. They had a son named Edward, though he had no idea how old the boy was or whether that was actually who he was. The only thing he knew for sure was that he was no longer human, had supernatural strength and speed, and could read minds. He spent years killing rapists and murderers, until sometime in the 1940s, when he realized he couldn't handle the guilt that came with killing people, even terrible ones. That was when he had switched to consuming animal blood.

Finally hearing his story made me understand that Edward was truly good. He wanted to use his abilities to make the world a better place, even when he'd had such a difficult time himself. That was when I convinced Edward to liaise with the government; to use his gifts and money to improve the plight of the world, like he'd once wanted to. But this time in a way that wouldn't be so taxing on his conscience. He'd agreed almost immediately, and we began building a company that would fund medical research for cures for various diseases, Edward insisting that if these cures were found, we would not privatize their distribution.

Working with the Army was something he did a little more reluctantly. So far, the partnership consisted mostly of Edward reporting what he did, though they constantly pressured him to let them run tests to discover more about vampire physiology, since he was the first one who had ever agreed to cooperate with them. For all we knew, he was the only vampire in existence, though that was unlikely, as he must have had a sire. The alliance with the government was a tentative one; they didn't trust him, he didn't trust them and I knew exactly why. They always looked at him like he was a turkey, and it was early November—these were his words, not mine, though I agreed with the sentiment. But I could also understand their fascination with him. Unbelievable as it was, he was a real, live vampire with completely different biology than anything else on the planet. Curiosity about what made him tick wasn't limited to them alone.

Sitting in a hard plastic chair in the army hospital, I felt miserable. In all the time I had known him, Edward had rarely shown a weakness, human or otherwise, if you didn't count his inability to be serious. And now, he was in the hospital. I wanted to approach this situational rationally, like I did all my problems. Rationally, my boss was sick and of course, I was concerned. But that pretense lasted all of a moment because Edward was my boss, but he was so much more: he was my friend, my ally, my confidante, my family. I wasn't concerned; I was devastated.

"Ms. Swan?" A man in a soldier's uniform approached me, pulling me out of my thoughts. "I'm Corporal Crowley; I'll take you to see patient 4239."

"Patient 4239? Is that Ed—"

"Yes, ma'am, it is," he interrupted. "We assign patients numbers in order to protect their identities."

I nodded. It made sense; we were actually deep below the army hospital, in what was clearly a wing with restricted, highly monitored access. I'd had to go through about eight handprint and retina scanners just to get here. I felt completely out of my depth. But that barely mattered as I followed Corporal Crowley down the hall; every other feeling was superseded by the intense and overwhelming anxiety I felt for Edward. It felt like it took a year to get through the winding hallways until finally, he opened the door to a small room for me and stepped back.

I stepped in the room, surveying the people crowded around the bed, making it so I couldn't see Edward. I recognized Jasper and no one else, but when Crowley shut the door after I entered, they all turned to look at me.

"Bella! Uh, Ms. Swan, let me introduce you to Agent Newton, who is our liaison with the FBI," Jasper said. Agent Newton moved forward to shake my hand as Jasper introduced me to the other gentlemen in the room, a Major Aro, followed by Captain Caius and then a few more. But I barely registered anything; I could now see Edward, lying on the bed, looking so weak and vulnerable that it nearly broke my heart. He stared back at me, giving me a small smile that was so far from his teasing grins. His eyes were heavy and tired instead of alert, his hair flat and messy in a completely different way than its normal disarray.

"Hello," he said, quietly.

"Hi," I replied. Silence fell over the room but I barely noticed it was the awkward kind till Jasper cleared his throat.

"Ms. Swan is Mr. Cullen's assistant, for lack of a more appropriate term. Nothing gets done without her; she's his right hand," Jasper explained to everyone. My eyes flicked to Edward; in a healthy state, he would have never let that "right hand" comment go by without some sort of remark. "I assume that Mr. Masen is alright with her presence here."

"Mr. Masen demands her presence, in fact," Edward interrupted.

"Alright, then we'll just cut to the chase. From what tests we've been able to conduct, it appears Mr. Masen is incredibly weak. Perhaps, at such small increments that he hasn't noticed them, he's been getting weaker for some while now. His collapse merely highlights how severe his condition has become," one of the doctors told us.

"And why is he so weak, Doctor…"

"Cullen. Carlisle Cullen." The doctor gave me a brief, but genuinely sympathetic smile. "I'm not sure why, Miss Swan, except that it appears he's no longer reacting to blood as he used to. It doesn't seem to be enough to sustain him."

"Why do you think this has happened all of a sudden?" I asked.

Major Aro stepped forward, frowning. "We really don't know. We barely know anything, and since Masen is the only specimen of his kind, we have no history to compare to. We assumed that he doesn't age and is immortal, but for all we know, maybe every vampire suddenly experiences this at some point of time and then dies. Maybe they experience this and get better. Maybe Mr. Masen is an anomaly of nature, living against the rules of existence until they catch up with him. We can do nothing but monitor his condition and run different tests to see what could possibly help him."

"So I assume asking for a time frame is out of the question," I said. I was surprised that I was able to keep the tremor out of my voice. The urge to touch Edward was so strong, my hand was nearly twitching with the want to hold his.

"I know Mr. Masen uses the wealth he has amassed to run a company. I'd suggest that you put someone else in charge for the interim," he said.

I bristled. Angela might be CEO and Edward might be the owner of the company, but Masen Tech wouldn't run without me, even if I was just a personal assistant on paper. Hell, Edward wouldn't run without me. I loathed the assumption that I was nothing more than a secretary to Edward.

"I'll worry about the company, Major. You worry about getting him better," I said. Aro stared at me for a few minutes, no doubt searching for something in the way I held my own. Whether he found it or not, I didn't know, but a few seconds later, with a curt nod, he exited the room. The rest of the personnel, including Jasper, followed him, leaving us alone.

"Is it ironic that I spend my money and time trying to find cures for incurable diseases only to be struck by something similar myself?" Edward mused. "Or is that not irony?"

I fell into a chair across from his bed. "I'm sorry, I'm too busy trying to translate what they just said to worry about irony."

"Okay. I'll just assume it is." He sat back. "And I think the gist of what they were saying was that I'm dying."

"Edward—"

"I mean, they don't know what is wrong with me and they don't know how to fix it. I'm not able to feed myself on the only sustenance I've known for eighty years now. I'm fairly certain all that adds up to the conclusion that somehow, despite not really being alive, I'm dying."

"Stop being so morbid and negative," I scolded.

"Well, I am on my deathbed. Quite literally."

"Shut up."

"Bella, can I ask you something?"

"Didn't you just?"

"Ha ha, very funny."

I smiled, even through the worry. "Go ahead."

"Will you kiss me?" he asked.

"No."

"I might die!"

"Well if you die, I'll kiss you," I conceded.

"Ew, Bella, necrophilia? Really?"

"You are a vampire. You're dead as it is!"

"But Bella... I'm dying."

"No you're not."

"Yes, Bella, I am. I'm dying so you should kiss me—"

"God damn it, stop joking about it, Edward!" I shouted, nearly in tears, beating down on the door of hysteria. "Stop joking about dying, stop saying you're dying, because you're not, okay? You can't die, I won't let you. You're too important, you're too special, you're—"

"Bella..."

"If you die, Edward, I'm out of a job. Hell, I'm out of a _life_. You're. all I've had for six years now. You're it. So... just don't. Don't joke about dying, don't talk about dying, and most of all, _don't die_."

He was uncharacteristically silent for a few moments. "Bella?"

"I'm not kissing you," I snapped, my hysteria snowballing into despair, but coming out as anger.

"I'm scared," he admitted, quietly. "I don't know what's happening to me and I hate this feeling. I've only had it once before, when I first woke up. And I'd been turned into _this_. I don't understand what's happening to me and neither does anyone else and I… feel so alone."

"You're not alone," I told him firmly. "I'm here. Like I have been, like I always will be." We stared at each other for a beat longer than normal and that feeling rose in me again. A fluttering, like a butterfly trapped in my chest but with all the impact of a bomb.

"Bella? Will you give me—"

"I'm not giving you a kiss, Edward," I replied. But it was half-hearted; suddenly it seemed like the lines I had drawn for us all these years, shaky as they were, had no more meaning. I refused to believe Edward wouldn't survive this, but even the mere notion that he wouldn't had shaken me so deeply, I could no longer pretend that it was professional admiration or concern for a colleague I was feeling.

"I was going to ask you to give me your hand," he said. It was the softest—gentle soft, not quiet soft—I'd ever heard his tone.

I walked over and pulled a chair next to the side of his bed. When I laced my fingers through his, I noticed our joined hands were shaking. Whether it was my hand or his, I couldn't tell.

It didn't matter. We'd shake together.

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Whatcha thinking?


	4. Chapter 4: Fellow Co-Jerkers

Someone kindly but firmly pointed out that I had this marked as romance/comedy and that the last chapter wasn't particularly comedic so I added "drama" lol. Lots and lots of theories, guys. I LOVE them. Some are dead on, others are so good, I want to write stories based on them.

Thank you so much for all your reviews and messages and words and just for being you and reading. So many thanks to BuriedAlive0 and the ever-awesome arfalcon. Anne, you are a gem.

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**Business Casual**  
Chapter Four: Fellow Co-Jerkers

It had been three days but I felt like I'd aged three years. Even worse, Edward looked like he'd aged almost thirty. Most days, he looked young—he had no memory before he woke up as a vampire so he'd just assumed he'd been in his early twenties, though in the rare moments he wasn't in a suit, he could have passed for a teenager. A tall, phenomenally attractive teenager.

Even though he was in drab hospital scrubs, and his hair was anything but done, Edward didn't look like the playful young man I knew. He looked tired. In a very frustrating turn of events, even with his reduced speed and strength, he still couldn't sleep. The doctors assured us that this was a good sign that his basic physiology wasn't changing, but all it seemed to me was that Edward had to bear through this nightmare without the respite of sleep.

He had taken to just closing his eyes, mimicking the act. That was perhaps the most disconcerting thing of all because when he did, as now, he lay so still that he almost looked—

"Stop staring at me, Bella," he muttered, without opening his eyes.

I sighed. If our old dynamic was that I was as blasé about him as possible, the new one was that I fretted over him every moment and didn't bother hiding it. "I can't help it," I replied.

"Look, I know I'm fantastically good-looking, but it's seriously annoying."

"You're not fantastically good-looking right now."

"Well, I have two things to say to that. A, that means you must find me fantastically good-looking at some other point of time and B, ouch, that's mean. That's really kicking me when I'm down."

"I'm sorry, it's just—can you open your eyes?"

"Why?" he asked, not opening his eyes.

"Because when you lie there like that, you look… dead."

"I am dead."

"Well, dead-er than usual. Not living-dead."

At this, he cracked open one golden eye, fixing it on me. "Could you not call me that? You've made it clear that I'm not very appealing right now, but 'living-dead' conjures up the image of Romero-esque zombies."

"Sorry. You're definitely not that bad looking."

"Thanks."

"Yet," I added, smiling despite myself.

He didn't reply, simply closing his eyes, and staying stock still—which I soon realized was his revenge against me.

"I'm sorry. You're not at your most handsome, but you make that particular color of puce more fetching than most could," I said, after a few moments of silence.

"Thank you," he replied, but still didn't open his eyes.

"Can you open your eyes now? I apologized and called you fetching," I huffed.

He turned his head and opened his eyes to look at me. When he spoke, it was very quietly. "I'm not keeping my eyes closed to annoy you—well, not primarily, that's just a happy side effect. I… there's this feeling."

"Please don't start talking about your feelings; I'm sympathetic but not that much so." My attempts at joking weren't quite as good as Edward's.

"No, it's this feeling in my head. It's like someone is a punching a fist into the space above my left eye. Repeatedly. From the inside. Opening my eyes just makes the sensation worse."

"Edward, that's a headache."

"It is? I've never felt anything like this before."

In that moment, I realized how lost Edward must have felt. Not only did he not have any of his normal powers, but he couldn't even identify what was happening to him, not understanding what basic aches and ailments were since he had never felt them.

I stood and went over to his bed, nudging his shoulders so he would scoot over to make room for me on his bed. I sat on the edge and leaning over him, I placed a hand on either side of his head and began massaging his temples gently.

"Is this the standard treatment for a headache?" he asked, already sounding more at ease.

"No. The human remedy is aspirin and complaining, but I figured I'd have to replace the first with something else."

"Well, this is nice."

"Thank you."

"I mean, the screaming pain inside my head isn't."

"I didn't expect it would be. But that's pain."

"I don't like this pain thing."

"That's sort of the point of it."

We remained like that, me rubbing his forehead and combing a hand lightly through his hair. He hummed after a few moments.

"Headache better?"

He opened his eyes. "If it is, will you stop doing that hair-rubbing-scratching thing?"

"Most likely."

"Then, no."

I chuckled. "Well, then I won't stop."

"In fact, it's gotten worse."

"Maybe I'm making it worse?"

"No! I think it would get better if you lay down next to me and maybe kissed me, too."

"We've talked about the kissing, Edward."

"That's the problem. We've _talked_ about it."

"I'm not kissing you."

"How long are you going to hold out?"

"It's not hol—" Suddenly, I heard the doorknob rattled.

I sprung away from him, at once disappointed when Agent Newton entered the room but relieved that his attention was somewhere behind him. He didn't see me nearly fall off the bed in attempts to move away from Edward, but when he did turn around, he cast an unfriendly eye over my position sitting next to him. Half of me wanted to shrink away and move, but I felt a gentle brush against my lower thigh. I looked down to see Edward moving his hand under the blanket to touch me, as if requesting me to stay where I was. So I did.

"Well, Mr. Masen," Agent Newton began. "I'm just here to ask you a few questions on behalf of my division."

"It's all in his file," I said. "Can't you just get the information from there?"

He fixed a long look at me. "No."

I could feel Edward tense next to me; I didn't think I was doing any favors to Newton's demeanor nor Edward's disposition by sitting where I was, so I slowly slid off the bed.

"Well, we can start with her," Newton said, motioning at me with his pen, not even looking up from the file he had. "What exactly is Miss Swan's role in your life?"

"She assists me in every aspect of my work. She liaises with my contacts, advises my decisions and ensures my well-being."

"So Miss Swan works for you," Newton clarified.

"No, Miss Swan—" Edward wrinkled his nose as if calling me by such a formal name left a bad taste in his mouth. "—works with me."

"That's what I said," Newton dismissed, not looking up from his file.

Even in his condition, Edward managed a rather epic eye roll. "No. _You_ said Miss Swan works for me. She doesn't. We work together. She is in almost every way my equal, and in the remaining ways, superior to me."

I looked at Edward sharply and he gazed back at me. I'd always known that Edward respected me, that he believed in my competence and intelligence. When Edward said we were equals, I don't think he meant in just a professional manner; he meant in every way. And since I was a woman, often faced with the prejudice against my gender, I couldn't explain how much it meant to me that he saw me as such.

Newton finally looked up. His beady little eyes darted back and forth between us. I could practically see him taking in how I stood close to Edward's bed, how one of my hands lay casually next to his head on the pillow. Newton was so certain of his assumptions that I could probably predict what he'd write in that stupid file of his. I felt even worse for Edward—he had to hear every one of this insufferable imbecile's thoughts.

"Oh, I see," he said.

I resisted huffing out loud. "What exactly is it that you see, Agent Newton?"

I knew what I saw: Newton's eyes looking me up and down, lingering on all the feminine parts, not at all gentlemanly. "I'm just getting some insight into the role you play in Masen's life."

"That's _Mr._ Masen," Edward said. His voice had taken on a growling tone that I had to admit was part terrifying, part incomprehensibly attractive. It was a rare occasion when Edward let someone irk him to the point of raising his temper, rarer still that he would make it evident. But when he did—like right now, even at half his strength—he was ferocious. His eyes would flash and he would seem every bit the predator his biology indicated him to be. "The role she plays in my life is neither apropos for the lunchroom gossip you seek nor relevant to the function you are here to serve. Speaking of which: the role _you_ play in my life is hereby non-existent. Consider me uncooperative until they send someone new to represent your department."

"But—I just—you can't—" Newton sputtered. I thoroughly enjoyed the hapless, dumb look on his face.

"You'll find, Mr. Newton, that there are very few things I can't do. Those are the things—along with others that are beyond comprehension for an utter nincompoop like you—that Miss Swan does for me. That is the role that she plays. Get out of my room and my sight and pray that you never find yourself in either again," he said. Newton shrank with every word Edward spoke and then slunk out of the room.

I waited a few moments before speaking. "You said 'nincompoop.'"

"I know," Edward groaned.

"Edward, you said _nin—"_

"I know! It was a heat of the moment, rage-induced brain fart, alright?"

"But, really, ignoring the fact that you're a vampire who has about seven times the normal comprehension of the average human and are claiming to have a brain fart, you farted 'nincompoop'?" I asked incredulously. I couldn't help but tease him.

"It just came out!"

"Careful, your age is showing."

He made a face at me. "Newton was looking at you like… and the things he was thinking!" He gritted his razor sharp teeth and I almost felt sorry for the air trapped between them. Thank God Newton had left. "I mean, I'm almost glad I could only…" He trailed off, seemingly catching himself before saying something, but in the next moment, he was back to irate. "He's not allowed to look at you like that."

"No?" I was about to roll my eyes at his Neanderthal-era—or perhaps it was Victorian-era—possessiveness.

"No one is, Bella," he replied, his voice suddenly gentle. "No one is allowed to look at you like you're a _thing_."

"How should someone look at me, Edward?" My breath was bated and my heart was racing to hear his next words as he met my eyes.

"_If_ you give him permission to then… A man should look at you like you're art. A wonder of the world," he replied. That was exactly how he was looking at me.

It was a good thing Jasper came through the door a few moments later because I had no idea what I was going to do. Perhaps something ridiculous like kiss my employer.

I stepped away slightly as Jasper prepared to start our meeting.

"Edward," I said, as Jasper spoke with someone out in the hall. He looked at me and I panicked, realizing that I had no idea what to say to him, how to convey what his words meant to me, what effect they'd had on me. "How would I tell someone I'm giving them permission?"

His smile widened at a tantalizingly slow rate. "You would hope that he'd just know."

Finding some courage deep inside me, I held his gaze as I said, "I _would_ hope he'd just know."

His smile changed, slightly, growing more intense yet more teasing at the same time. He looked me up and down once, just like Newton had. But not like Newton at all, because I had to accept that I rather welcomed Edward's gaze. It made me feel feminine and attractive; things I wasn't normally interested in feeling until I realized that was how I wanted Edward to think of me.

Well, until his gaze lingered on certain parts of me just a little too long, at least in front of company.

"Alright, alright," I said, rolling my eyes as I turned his face away with my hands. He grinned like a canary-stuffed cat. He was absolutely right in what he'd said earlier: whatever else he was, he was still very much a man.

"Jasper, would it be possible to get an Internet connection and a laptop in here?" Edward asked.

Jasper frowned. "No. We actually have to surrender all non-government issued electronics when we enter this wing, to protect all the classified information that's here. I think the only access would be restricted to the doctors and higher ranked officials. Why? What do you need the Internet for?"

"Oh, just some art," Edward said, casually. I couldn't help it; I tried to fight a smile but there was no point. And even though his words were casual, Edward watched me closely, waiting for the moment when I gave in. No matter how much I fought it, it was clear—I was always going to smile.

"Art?" Jasper asked, confused.

"Yes, art."

"You have a pressing need for art all of a sudden?"

"It's hardly all of a sudden," Edward replied, turning to look right at me as he continued, "But I don't think I can be without it any longer."

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This chapter has been brought to you by the letter F and a certain miss WriteOnTime. Thoughts, feelings, opinions, theories? If you've got them, I'd love to hear them.


	5. Chapter 5: Contact Renegotiation

You guys are amazing. I cannot believe the love for this story. And we're halfway done. Honestly, some of your theories are so much better than what I've written, I hope you won't be disappointed. Anyway, thanks to buriedalive0 and Anne. And thank you always for reading and reviewing and being such a fun, smart, lovely set of readers. Best in the world, I tell ya!

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**Business Casual**

Chapter Five: Contact Renegotiation

"Do you want the good news or the bad news?" Jasper asked, once we'd gotten back on track.

Edward and I exchanged a look.

"Bad news," I said, just as Edward replied, "Good news."

We exchanged another look.

"Well, I'll oblige the patient, shall I?" Jasper said, looking amused. "The good news is I have no bad news."

"And let me guess: the bad news is that you have no good news," Edward commented.

"It's not really a guess if you can read his mind, Edward."

"Well, I ca—" He cut himself off as a strange expression crossed his face almost too quickly for me to notice. Mere moments seconds later, however, he had schooled it into his default look—nonchalance bordering on arrogance. He shrugged. "Haters are going to hate."

My jaw might have been hanging open. "I… I have no words to explain how I feel that you just used that phrase."

"Try to control your attraction for me in front of Jasper, Bella."

I rolled my eyes; one day they were going to get stuck that way. "Attraction. Sure. We'll call it that."

"There's a thin line between love and hate."

"Oh, it's pretty distinct to me."

"Are you sure you can't read her mind?" Jasper interrupted. "Or that she can't read yours? Because you guys talk like you can."

"Ahhh, the language of the heart needs no voice," Edward answered.

Jasper whistled, grinning. "Very smooth. And they say you're weaker."

"I'm _physically_ weaker. Mentally, I'm still as sharp as a…" he trailed off, thinking of a way to finish his simile.

"As sharp as a person who forgets common idioms?" I suggested.

"That's redundant, an idiom is common by definition," he retorted and I smiled, relieved to see that he was right about one thing: he was still as mentally sharp as ever.

Suddenly, he broke out into a grin and turned to Jasper. "You know, I often wonder the same thing." Jasper grinned back.

"What?" I asked.

"Bella, please!" Edward scolded. "His thoughts are private."

Jasper simply laughed again, taking his leave as I made a face at Edward.

"How long have you worked for me?" he asked, as soon as Jasper had left. I could only assume this train of conversation was something along the lines of whatever Jasper had been thinking.

"Six years."

"Six _long_ years."

"You're 108 years old, at _least_. Six years is nothing to you. Why'd you ask?"

"Because I've been thinking—"

"Well, that's good, I was hoping you'd try it at least once—"

"_I was thinking_," he spoke over me, undeterred. "There's a slim chance I might survive this." That wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows and he looked at me, concerned as he took in a deep, unnecessary breath. "But what about the other way I'm dying?"

I frowned, worried. "What other way?"

"Even if I survive this—" he slapped the back of his palm to his forehead and affected a tortured look "—the sexual tension between us will slowly kill me, Bella."

I should have been clued in by the fact that he _seemed_ serious. I pursed my lips and tried to look stern, and not amused; it was more difficult than I cared to admit. "You're immortal."

He pouted. "Immortals are people, too."

"No, they're not, by the very definition of the word!"

"Okay, fine. But immortals have needs, too."

I began listing things on my fingers. "You don't eat. You don't sleep. You don't even breathe air. Do tell me just what kind of _needs_ you have."

He bit his lip. "Well… I'm not sure how to put this delicately—"

"Maybe because you've never put anything delicately in your life."

"Well, then do tell me how to say 'the need to get laid' without saying 'the need to get laid.'" We both looked at each other for a long moment before he continued dryly, "Because you just don't say something like 'the need to get laid' to a lady."

I gave him a droll smile. "Well, at least you've acknowledged I'm a lady."

His expression became slightly stern all of a sudden and his voice was strong and sure when he spoke. Altogether, it was almost seductive. "You're a fool if you think I haven't acknowledged that before. And I know you aren't a fool."

I was silent for a moment. "How long has it been since you…" I trailed off, unable to voice my actual question. Because you didn't just say something like 'how long has it been since you got laid' to your boss. Especially when you purposefully stayed away from talking about anything of the sort for the entirety of your relationship. Nonetheless, I'd burned with curiosity over Edward's life, in particular his love life, for many years. For all I knew, he spent his nights out with a woman while I slept.

But somehow, I doubted that.

As for me, the relationship I had been in when I'd taken this job had fallen apart not too long after I started. I was an only child and both my parents had passed away when I was younger, leaving me accountable to no one. Any semblance of a personal life I had tried to maintain thereafter had been eradicated, mostly by my own doing and my need to involve myself in every aspect of Edward's affairs. His acceptance and symbiotic reliance on me hadn't helped, I suppose. I had spent a long time going without—and I couldn't say I hadn't wondered if perhaps he was in the same situation.

Edward opened his eyes and narrowed them up at me. "Why are you asking?"

"Answer and I'll tell you why I'm asking."

"Tell me why you're asking and I'll answer you."

"Edward—"

"It's been longer than six years, alright? That's all that is important."

"Is it?" I asked, hoping my words would distract him from noticing my blush. "Is that all that's important?"

He looked at me for a few beats before speaking and everything in his expression, from the way he held my gaze, to how his lips were set in the beginnings of a smile told me he was being completely sincere. "I don't know whether it's a facet of my own personality or an aspect of the vampire existence, but I've found that I have no desire to get any thing I _may_ need from anyone except the person I _do_ need."

His unexpectedly sweet answer took me by surprise—and then I realized it shouldn't. He'd dropped hints, cracked jokes, teased me relentlessly about how it had been six years and I was still spurning him. I'd always thought this was more in jest than anything, even if there really was a basis for it. After all, I wasn't a moron. I felt what was there between us; I'd just never stopped to think how much more he might have felt it. I was happy to spend my life dedicated to Edward because after twenty-something years, I finally felt like I knew where I belonged: by his side. But he'd been alone for one _hundred_ years before me—more than that, in fact; perhaps he wasn't joking about six years of waiting for something happen feeling long.

There had always been something between us. We'd never acted on it because of our professional relationship, or so I thought. But now I was seeing that maybe _I_ was the one who wasn't acting on it and Edward was simply following my lead and respecting my wishes. And here, in this place so far from our everyday routines, with Edward's life threatened, the true meaning of what we were to each other was more obvious than ever. The wall of professionalism I hid behind seemed useless and I suddenly wanted to bridge any space between us.

"Bella?" he said, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Yes," I murmured.

"You're leaning in closer to me."

I hadn't even realized I was, but it didn't surprise me. It was instinct; it was ingrained somewhere in me that I could never be too far from Edward. I moved slightly to stand so I was hovering over him on the bed, my arm on the side of his head. I leaned down a little more. "I am."

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

I reared back an inch. "Are you reprimanding me?"

He quickly reached up and slipped his hand around the back of my neck, his fingers curling underneath my ponytail before I could move away any farther. His hand was a cool touch welcome to my flushed skin. "Not at all! I want to know what you are thinking so I keep your mind on it. Always." His fingers caressed the back of my neck as he gently pulled me towards him.

"I'm thinking… I don't know. I don't know what I'm thinking," I said softly, leaning down closer. There was barely three inches between us.

"Maybe that's the key," he replied, just as quiet. "Maybe no need to think at all."

"Edward," I whispered. I couldn't breath in the best way, my heart pounding as I moved even closer to kiss him. I gently brushed the tip of my nose against his and watched as his eyes fluttered closed. Now, even though his eyes were shut, he'd never looked more alive, more handsome, lips in a small smile, slightly puckered as if waiting.

Waiting for me.

I moved lower, gently touching the side of my nose against his. Just as I was about to press my lips to his, I heard the doorknob rattle. I jumped away from his bed, wondering if it was a sign that we'd been interrupted twice in one day.

One doctor stepped in, followed by another and then two more. Behind them, I recognized Major Aro and Captain Caius. Finally, Jasper entered, looking much less cheerful than he had when he left us ten minutes ago.

"Back so soon, dear?" Edward joked, but Jasper barely cracked a smile. It was then that sudden fear flooded me.

"I'm afraid Sergeant Whitlock has received some information that may have ruined his jovial mood," Aro said. "And I'm going to have to pass that information on to you."

I instinctively moved back to the side of the bed, and reached down to grip Edward's hand. People could assume whatever they wanted about our relationship; I only cared about him now.

"What's wrong?" I asked. When no one replied, I turned to Edward. "What's going on? What are they thinking?"

There was silence for a few minutes before Captain Caius spoke. "Er… I think, Miss Swan, you'll find that Mr. Cullen's weaker state also comes with a diminished ability to indulge in his ah, _gift__."_

Caius spoke with unnecessary breaths and pauses as if to heighten the drama in his words. It was extremely irritating—as if this situation needed _more _drama. I frowned. "What?"

"If we're not mistaken, Edward is losing his ability to read minds," Jasper translated.

I turned to Edward. "You are?"

He had the decency to look sheepish. "It's been going in and out. More out than in lately."

"Since when?"

"It actually started about two weeks ago."

"And you never mentioned anything?" I asked, incredulous.

"I was glad at first! You don't know what it's like to have a burden like that and then discover it might be going away!" he retorted.

"You're dying, you can't hide things like this!" I burst out.

Edward finally felt silent, looking appropriately reprimanded, before he gave me a small smile. "Well, at least, I got you to admit I'm dying."

All these new feelings I realized I had for Edward hadn't changed the old ones, the primary of which was annoyance. "Oh yes, a real victory there, Edward."

"_Anyway_," Aro interrupted. "We'll just have to keep monitoring you; we've got some researchers hard at work trying to see what is happening and trying to find some sort of compound that might sustain you. We think we might be able to come up with a synthetic mimic of blood, but we need to know what it is in the blood, whether the plasma or hemoglobin or leukocytes, that sustains your vampirism. However, since you've never let us run the tests we want on you, our knowledge about your biology is limited. Until we can find a little more information regarding that, I'm afraid we'll just have to sit tight."

With that, Aro, Cauis and the doctors—none of whom had spoken a word, making me wonder why they'd come in—left, leaving Jasper, Edward and I alone.

"Did he just blame the fact that they can't find out what's ailing me on my own reluctance to become a lab test subject?" Edward asked.

Jasper sighed. He looked as tired as I felt. "Aro's demeanor is less than ideal."

"No, I mean, there's a sense of irony in that. It's very Greek tragedy, fatal-flaw."

Jasper and Edward continued chattering, but I remained silent. I was painfully aware of how close I was to losing Edward. And all I was doing was sitting by his bedside, not even kissing him, when I should have been doing something. Anything.

"Bella?" Edward said, noticing my quietness. "You alright?"

"No," I said, stepping forward. "I'm not alright and you're not alright and nothing is right."

"Bella—"

"No. I need to find a way to save you, Edward."

He gave me a sad smile and held out his hand. "How do you propose to do that?"

I took his outstretched hand and wound my fingers through his, so mine fit in the spaces between them. "I'm not sure yet. But I know it doesn't involve sitting in a chair next to you in the hospital." I began wracking my brain, thinking of anything I had learned in the past six years about Edward or vampires that could help me.

"Look, I understand—"

Suddenly, it came to me. "Remember when we went to Italy?"

Edward frowned. "Sure, I do. But I don't think reminiscing about a romantic dinner, even if it was only you who was actually dining, is the answer."

"I'm not talking about Trattoria Di Nardi. I'm talking about Volterra. Remember? We were only there for a few hours but they kept on talking about all those legends—"

"In the red hoods. The ones that sounded an awful lot like vampires."

"Yes! You said they'd clearly mixed up Little Red Riding Hood and Dracula and needed to lay off the _vino_."

Edward cracked a smile. "I stand by that opinion."

"I don't." I turned so that I was facing Jasper as well. "I think we've been so busy looking at Edward for a solution, that we haven't considered looking anywhere else."

"And you want to… what? Look for an answer in a legend?" Edward asked, almost incredulous.

"It's better than sitting around," I replied.

He rolled his eyes, which made me a little angry. "No, it's not."

"Edward," I said firmly, letting go of his hand and crossing my arms over my chest. "I'm going to Volterra."


	6. Chapter 6: Oversees Expansion

Hi! Won't waste your time with my usual blathering, I'll just say thank you thank you thank you for reading/reviewing/reccing/messaging and all your love and time. Thank you, Buriedalive0 for her patience and sweetness, and Anne for her brilliance and existence.

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"_Edward, I'm going to Volterra."_

**Business Casual**

Chapter Six: Oversees Expansion

"You're going to Volterra… to what? Hear stories about vampires?" Edward said, his voice rising.

"And maybe find one who can tell us how to save you," I replied, just as heated.

"I'm just going to leave now…" Jasper said quietly, slipping out the door, but Edward and I barely noticed.

"How are you going to find one? How do you know one even exists?" he asked.

"You exist! And, if we can believe what little information we have, you must have a sire!"

"What are you going to do when you find him? Or her? Or really, more accurately, _it_. Because it's obvious what the vampire will do. What they're supposed to do: drink your blood. _Kill_ you."

"You don't."

"Well, I'm special."

"That much I know," I said dryly.

He ignored my jab. "You're probably walking into a den of bloodthirsty vampires!"

"If I'm lucky." I shrugged, understanding that he was right but also that my mind was made up. I wasn't the type of person to foolishly risk my life, but if there was one thing I'd learned from Edward, it was that we made our own circumstances. Actually, I hadn't learned that _from_ Edward, we'd learned it together. And I'd be damned if I was just going to sit by and watch him waste away.

Over the next few hours, we fell into a stalemate, barely able to talk without arguing. I was determined to leave, but I knew I wouldn't feel good about doing so without Edward giving me his blessing. And Edward, still set against me leaving, knew this and refused to acquiesce to me going. Nearly the entire day passed and still we circled around the same argument, our frustrations and emotions reaching a boiling point.

But I couldn't wait any longer. I felt so useless sitting here, so I finally decided: as much as it was important for me to leave on good terms with him, it was more important that I go. Time was of the essence and at least this gave me a better chance of mending things when I came back with a solution. I looked over to him and he looked back at me. In my anger, I'd moved my chair a few feet away from his bed, but now, he stretched his arm out to me. I reached mine back and took his hand, and unable to look at him, to see his disapproval, I stood.

Still staring at the ground, I said. "Edward, I can't wait any longer. We don't know how much time you have. I'm going to go."

He spoke surely and authoritatively, a tone he'd never used on me before. "No."

"No?"

"No."

His stubbornness incensed me. "_No?_"

"No. I forbid it."

Both my hackles and the volume of my voice began to rise. "You do not own me,Edward_,_ you can't forbid it."

"Fine, then I order you not to go," he said, matching my anger.

"Order?" I nearly yelled. "You are not a commander, and I am not your army! You can't order anything!"

"You are not to go there, Ms. Swan!" He raised his voice to a full shout.

"How are you going to stop me, Mr. Masen?" I matched his volume.

"I'll… I'll…" He paused, searching for words before visibly deflating. "I'll be very sad," he said, pathetically. He lay back in bed, looking almost exhausted from the shouting. It was rare that I'd ever seen him this worked up.

"Edwa—"

"And worried."

"Ed—"

"And horridly distraught, which might be nice for the nurses, since I do look rather great when I brood, but…"

"Edward," I said, gently.

He met my eyes and pursed his lips, his forehead wrinkled. He looked so tired, so broken that I was tempted never to leave him again and just sit here, smoothing away his expression till he looked happy again. "Bella, what if something happens to you?"

I nodded, ceding his point. "I agree, it's a risk. But there is no _what if_ with you. Something _is_ happening to you and I can't sit around and do nothing."

"It's too dangerous."

"That may be so, but…"

"Do you remember what you said a few days ago?" he said, his tone so insistent that I had to listen. "About how this isn't just a job and I'm not just your boss? You said it, and it's true. It's completely true. This is our life, Bella, together. _You_ are my life, and I know you laughed when I said that before but I'm afraid cheesy though it might be, it's also true."

My breath caught. This was the closest Edward had ever come to speaking seriously about his feelings for me. This was the closest he'd ever come to speaking seriously in general.

"It's true for me, too," I said, quietly.

He smiled, and it was still a little sad. "Before you… I've been alive so long, Bella. So long. But it's only in the last six years that I've _really_ lived. I was so alone before you."

I bit my lip to keep from crying. "I might not be immortal but it's the same for me, Edward. So can't you understand why I have to do this? I have to do everything I can to keep you here, with me. What's the alternative? I sit here and watch you die?"

"No." His lips flattened and the corner of his mouth twitched. He was trying hard not to smile. "You could kiss me until I die."

I laughed, mostly out of relief to break the seriousness of the moment. "I—"

"Maybe if you kissed me, I'd be okay with letting you go?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows in a ridiculous manner.

I narrowed my eyes at him, but I couldn't help smiling. "Are you bribing me to kiss you?"

"Perhaps."

"I would think you'd be above resorting to bribes to get women to kiss you."

"Not women. You," he said. "And I'm not sure I'd be above anything to get you to kiss me."

I smiled and looked away, more embarrassed that I was so pleased with his teasing than I was by his teasing itself. "Edward."

"Bella, just kiss me," he said. I turned to look at him and he was serious again and looking staring right into my eyes.

I stepped closer to his bedside like he was a magnet and I was made of metal. "Is that an order or a request?" I asked softly. I slipped my hand into his, and his fingers curled around mine, his thumb both inciting and calm as he stroked my palm. We both looked down at our joined hands for a few moments, as if they signaled that what was to come next was both inevitable and momentous.

"Neither," he said and I was compelled by the vulnerability in his voice to move closer, right next to him. I would only have to bend down to kiss him. "It's… it's six years, Bella. It's you and me. It's that I may be dying now but you have always saved me. It's that I'm not quite human but you make me feel like a man. It's that you are a phenomenal woman, who has nonetheless dedicated her life to me and that in all of forever, that will always be the most miraculous thing to me. That you not only chose, but keep choosing me. It's romantic and it's right but more than that, it's… it's a necessity. I don't just _want_ you to kiss me. You don't want me to kiss you. I _need_ to kiss you and you _need_ to kiss me and—"

And then, I bent down and finally gave into that niggling need, kissing him right over his blathering, lovely mouth.

His lips were cold but it only added to the heat of the kiss as I surrendered completely. I lost all awareness of myself, except for where my mouth was on his, where our tongues slowly touched. Somehow, my hand twisted in his hair and I wound up half lying on the bed next to him, but I couldn't say how that happened. All I knew was that kissing Edward Masen was worth every moment of the six years that led up to it. I was completely immersed, kissing him with abandon, enjoying the way he gave back just as good, if not better. If my tongue teased, then his stroked; if my lips puckered, then his gently sucked. If I was kissing, then he was raising it to some sort of art form.

"That's what you think of," he said, quietly, when we had pulled apart. He brushed a cool hand through my hair, clutching a few strands between his fingers. "I know you're going to go because you're as stubborn as I am and that's what makes you so stunning. But that kiss? That's what you think of when you consider doing anything too dangerous, what you remember when you think of risking your life. You think of coming back to me and more kisses like that and you don't do it."

He was so earnest, so sweet and sincere that I didn't point out the fallacy in his logic: that unless I did do something that might be dangerous, until I perhaps risked my life, there might not be any kisses to come back to. The thought nearly choked me, so I pushed it away, simply cupping his face and touching his lips with my thumb.

"Please come back to me, Bella," he said, almost begging. "Come back to me safe and sound and that is an order and a request and a plea and anything else it needs to be to make you listen to it."

I leaned forward, kissing him again, because now that I had, I didn't know how I'd gone six years without. I was thinking that I never wanted the to stop kissing him when he pulled away. We stared at each other for a few moments, unable to control the matching blooming smiles that spread across our faces.

"Thus, with a kiss, I die," he intoned dramatically before pretending to choke and die, his eyes closed and tongue lolling out.

I rolled my eyes. "Had to ruin the moment, didn't you?" I asked him, smiling.

He grinned and shrugged. "It's what I do best." He looked utterly irresistible, his hair every which way because of my hands and the only sign that he'd been kissed and kissed well, dammit. I wanted to leave more signs.

But unfortunately, there were more important things that beckoned at that moment, things like keeping him alive, so I reluctantly backed away. "I have to go," I told him.

"Oh yes," he said, breezily, though I could see it was false. "Saving my life and all that."

I shrugged. "Yeah, just another day's work."

"I mean, if you're in the mood, I think I can muster up the energy for something more than a kiss."

I fixed him with my usual exasperated look, but there was no real force behind it, considering my lips were still tingling from where they had touched his. "Always trying. Even when you get what you want."

"I'd hardly say a kiss is all I want from you. Besides, nothing says 'you're important to me' like a quickie before you leave."

"Because running off to a foreign land to see if I can save you doesn't say that at _all_," I retorted, but my words only served to bring back the ugly truth: I was going to leave him.

"Bella," he said abruptly, sitting up. "Remember me like this."

I hated the finality in his tone, and loathed the casualness even more, and the only way I could deal with it, the only way I could find the strength to walk out that door was to pushed it aside. "Remember you like what? Horny?"

He grinned. "That too. But I meant happy."

"Edward," I started, feeling tears well up in the corner of my eyes. "Please don't say goodbye." I leaned down to rest my forehead against his, and he wove a hand through my hair, clasping the back of my neck.

"If you're not successful—"

"I _have_ to be."

"But if you're not…" He looked up and his eyes were so close to mine. I could see so much more than the unique gold color; I could see his fear, I could see his strength and I could see how much I meant to him. "These last six years I've had the privilege of seeing you every day, Bella. You are so much a part of me. I tell time by the creases in your shirt; I measure my own moods by the width of your smile. If you're not successful, I'll spend my last days away from you. That just doesn't seem right."

I closed my eyes, but two tears fell anyway. "That you're thinking of these as your last days, _that's_ what's not right."

He looked down at our hands, which were clasped together tightly. "I understand, you know. Despite my initial reaction, I understand why you're leaving me. If the situation were reversed, there isn't anything I wouldn't do to see that you were alright."

The longer I took to say goodbye, the more time I wasted. And the more I contemplated the idea that this was the last time I'd see Edward, the less I'd want to go. The less I'd want to do anything. "I have to go."

But just as I was about to pull my hand out of his, Jasper whirled into the room.

"Jasper?"

He didn't reply, not even acknowledging that I had said his name. He simply began opening drawers and shutting them, looking at wires and unplugging any electrical equipment that wasn't medically related, though he skipped the stereo.

"Jasper?" I called again and again, he ignored me, tearing through the room like a madman, upending the books in the shelves, emptying the flower pot.

"Jasper!" I yelled and finally, he seemed to snap out of it. He looked at me, his features tense and conflicted before his eyes flicked over to Edward. Grabbing a notepad from the bedside table, Jasper scrawled on it and then turned it so Edward and I could see what he had written.

In messy, hurried handwriting, it read:

_Don't say anything. You're in more trouble than we thought._

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Tell me things!


	7. Chapter 7: Hostile Take(C)over

Hi guys! Posting this from work, so excuse any typos. Thanks always, always for reading and being amazing! so much love to BuriedAlive and the inimitable Arfalcon.

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Grabbing a notepad from the bedside table, Jasper scrawled on it and then turned it so Edward and I could see what he had written.

In messy, hurried handwriting, it read:

_Don't say anything. You're in more trouble than we thought._

Chapter Seven: Hostile Take(C)over

Edward and I looked at each other in alarm as Jasper turned the notepad to write something else.

_Edward—say that you want to listen to music._

_Bella, turn it up loud. Really loud. _

Edward and I looked at each other, wondering what had gotten into Jasper. When it was obvious that neither of us had a logical explanation, Edward shrugged, and with an effort sat up in bed. I moved towards him, helping readjust the pillows behind him so he could lean back.

"Bella, will you please put on some music?" he said. "I'm in the mood for some tunes."

I turned on the radio, adjusting the volume so it was quite loud. Jasper pointed his thumb upward and I raised it higher. It still wasn't enough and he motioned that I raise it higher, and I kept on doing so in increments until The Who was blasted so loud I could barely hear myself think.

"What is happening?" I asked, wincing. For a moment, I was glad Edward's hearing wasn't at its highest capability; that would be torturous. Jasper moved close to Edward's side, motioning me in.

Cupping his hands so that we could hear him in the small circle our bodies formed, he spoke. "You guys are in much more trouble than I thought."

"What?"

"I was alerted by Dr. Cullen to some patterns in Edward's test results. Patterns that indicate that Edward isn't getting weaker; he is being _weakened_. There's something that is draining his strength," Jasper explained.

"What? How can he be weakened?" I struggled to ask over the sound of The Who.

Jasper's face became, if possible, even grimmer. "Edward's being poisoned." I looked at Edward. His already pale, drawn face was ashen in expression, if not in actual color. I mused that for the first time in his life, Edward Masen was speechless.

Seemingly realizing this as well, Jasper continued. "There are patterns in his biopsy, for lack of a better word; they've slowly developed starting about three weeks before he collapsed. When compared to the minimal amount of tests you let us run when you were in better health, it became evident what was happening. And it's only getting worse."

"How do you know all this?" Edward asked, regaining his voice.

"There's a doctor here, Dr. Carlisle Cullen. He noticed the results and then delved into it further. When he realized the patterns match those of blood work in human beings with longer-term poisoning, such as lead poisoning, he was alarmed. He had a hunch there was foul play; he pulled me aside and told me about his findings. We don't want to risk this information leaking out or any suspicion falling onto Carlisle as helping us. He's our greatest ally right now; that's why he's not here telling you about this."

"And you think the room is bugged?" I asked, over a particularly spirited guitar riff.

Jasper nodded. "I've worked with the bugging devices we use. I've discovered a little secret over the years; the bass tone disrupts the devices. Those guitar chords are essentially scrambling the noise the bugs will pick up."

"How do you even poison a vampire?" I wondered out loud.

"There's an explanation for that, too, thanks to Dr. Cullen. What does Edward live on?"

"Blood," I replied at the same time as Edward said, "Bella's adoration." I made a face at him, smacking in the arm lightly. "Be serious," I scolded.

"Well, since Bella's adoration can't be poisoned or tainted, it's irrelevant to this particular discussion," Jasper said, a half grin forming. I rolled my eyes. Edward did not need to be encouraged. "But, yes, the blood supply. I'll save you the complicated science-talk—mostly because I didn't understand myself—but whatever is being put in the blood supply Edward feeds on is stripping it of the element that Edward's physiology converts into energy. It's like if someone gave you food minus any nutrients; you'd run out of energy. Edward's passing out, his decreased hearing, slower speed, the loss of his mind reading ability and other powers; they're all reactions to the fact that he has no energy in his body. He is, essentially, malnourished."

There was one very, very important question left to ask. "Jasper, who do you think is behind this?"

He looked at me, then at Edward. Very seriously, he said, "Definitely Aro and Caius-they completely avoided contact with Edward, except through me, who didn't know anything, which would esnure he couldn't read their minds. Only when they knew that power was comprised did they come in. And I bet they had very special training to shield their thoughts."

"So Aro and Caius..."

"It probably doesn't stop with them. If Edward's blood supply is being contaminated and _I_ don't know about it? It means that there is an order coming from so high up that they've deemed me a liability."

"And they what? Want to kill Edward?" I ask, glancing down at him. I don't know what expression I expected to see on Edward's face; perhaps worry to match mine, or a stony-faced determination, like Jasper. It was neither.

"Jokes on them. I'm already dead!" he announced, slapping his hands to his face in a way that reminded me of Macaulay Culkin in _Home Alone_.

Jasper looked at Edward for a long moment, a wry grin on his face. "You're really never serious, are you?" he said, admiringly, like he liked Edward's ability to keep his mirth. "Anyway, my best guess, Bella, would be that someone thinks Edward is worth more to the government dead than he is alive. Or er, whatever manner of alive he is. I'm guessing their goal is to weaken Edward to the point where they'll take him in as a hostile and conduct all the tests they haven't been able to thus far."

"All this just for some tests? I agree, his physiology is fascinating—"

"Oh, baby," Edward interrupted, giving me a lecherous smile. "I think you're physiology is fascinating too. In fact, I'd like to inspect it more closely." He weakly reached his arms out to grab me.

Ducking out of his reach, I ignored him and continued addressing Jasper. "But… doing this—it has to be a violation of human rights."

"I guess they don't care since he's not human," Jasper replied dryly.

My heart tugged at that. For all his otherworldliness, Edward was so very human. He was suffering, just like any of us would. He ached and he cared and he loved and he was loved. He was as much of a person as I was. He had never made the choice to be a vampire—only to use his abilities for good. And now, he was being betrayed. "To what end?"

"Well," Jasper said, swallowing. "They're obviously quite taken with the idea of an indestructible, immortal soldier."

I blinked once, then again. I glanced at Edward, who was wearing a poker face, and Jasper, whose expression was equally imperturbable. "You mean, they want to… weaponize vampirism?"

I started laughing. I couldn't help it. Between Pete Townsend singing about teenage wastelands and the information that it was highly likely that the entire government wanted to turn Edward into a lab rat and the consideration of the possibility of an army of vampires, I became a bit hysterical. I cracked up uncontrollably, laughing to the point of pain, as Jasper and Edward both stared at me.

"Well, it had to happen sometime," Edward said. "Bella's finally gone crazy."

I managed to tamp down my giggles, though one or two still escaped. "I've worked for you for six years. This breakdown is actually five years and three-hundred and sixty four days late," I retorted.

"Anyway, the most important thing is—" But Jasper was interrupted as a nurse came in.

"I'm going to have to ask you to turn that down!" she yelled.

"What?" Edward yelled backed.

"Turn it down!" she yelled louder.

"Earn a frown?" he replied.

"Turn it _down_!"

"Burn what town?"

Jasper and my heads bobbed back and forth as we watched.

"Turn it down!" she said, finally going to the stereo and doing it herself. "There!"

"I'm sorry," Edward said, sounding far too innocent. "Was it very loud?"

"You—of course it was!" she said.

"Oh. I'm sorry! You see, I'm losing my hearing so I couldn't tell." He made such a sorrowful face that I almost believed him. What's more, the nurse did believe him, despite the fact that Jasper and I probably both looked visibly relieved when she switched off the music.

"Well, never mind that," she continued. She walked to Edward's bedside and handed him a packet of blood, looking completely unsurprised that she was doing so for a patient without a drip. What types of things had she seen in her tenure that handing someone a packet of blood with no means to consume it but orally didn't phase her? Did _she_ know that the blood was poisoned? I couldn't decide what was worse: if she, a nurse who had sworn the Hippocratic oath, knew and was complicit in the scheme, or if she didn't know and falsely believed she was working for the greater good. Sighing, I pulled myself out of my thoughts and looked over to Jasper, who mouthed "flush it" behind the nurse's back. I nodded.

As soon as she exited the room, I pulled the packet from Edward's hand and ran into the attached bathroom. A snapping sound caught my attention and I turned to see Jasper gesture for me to only empty half. I did so, flushing it down the toilet and brought the remainder back. Edward smartly took a little and rubbed it around his mouth to make it look like he'd consumed it. But really he looked pained. From what he'd told me, the scent of blood was hard to resist and he was already so weak as it was.

I reached over and took his hand, squeezing it. He looked at me and smiled, squeezing back.

"Anyway, Edward, Bella," Jasper said, breaking the silence and speaking measured and deliberately. "It was nice to see you again. I'm sorry to tell you we have no progress as far as your weakening condition is concerned, Edward. But I do appreciate listening to The Who."

"No problem," Edward replied. Meaningfully, he added, "Let's listen again sometime soon."

"Definitely. _Soon_," he said, nodding and walking out of the room, leaving Edward and me with far too much to talk about and no way to do so.

If Jasper was right—and I had little doubt he was—both Edward and I were in far more danger than we could ever imagine.

It was nearly twenty-four hours before Jasper got the chance to talk to us again, sneaking in the room just after midnight and carrying a strange, small box with him. That day of waiting was the most harrowing I'd ever been through; not only did I startle when anyone walked through the door, but Edward, unable to consume the blood being given by the hospital for fear of what might be in it, only grew weaker.

I folded my arms on the edge of Edward's bed, resting my chin on them. Gently, he cupped my face with one hand, giving me a weak smile. He already looked ten times worse and it had only been a few hours.

"I hate this," I mumbled.

"Hate what?" he replied.

"Hate having to sit here like this. Waiting," I told him. Through notes and whispers, Edward and I agreed that if the room was bugged we couldn't talk about anything.

"I can think of something we could do," he said, but the normal playfulness in his tone was dull.

"Why are you making that strange face?" I asked him.

He grimaced. "I was trying to wiggle my eyebrows but it seems to be taking too much effort."

I laughed, knowing he was partially joking. But my heart was only slightly in it because there was so much truth behind this joke. We needed Jasper to tell us what happening and we needed it now.

As if he heard my mental plea, he strode in the room a few minutes later, closing the door behind him. He fished a small device from his pocket and placed it on the side table next to Edward, flipping a switch.

"So Bella's mention got me thinking about—"

"Wait, Jasper, what about the room being bugged?" I interrupted.

"Oh, yeah. You see this thing?" he asked, picking up the device. "It's the most ingenious little invention. A friend in Tech lent it to me. I was worried that if I kept playing music loudly, whoever was listening would get suspicious. That's where this thing comes in handy. It picks up the frequency of the bug and plays a false conversation, modulating the voices."

"Hah," Edward laughed. "It's like a technology version of the _muffliato_ spell from Harry Potter."

Jasper smiled. "Where do you think he got the idea from?" Edward and I grinned back at him.

"Anyway, what Bella was saying about Volterra, it got me thinking. It sounded a little familiar so I did some snooping with the help of a friend—"

"You sure have a lot of friends, Jasper," I teased.

He shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a charming guy."

"I certainly have a crush on you," Edward joked.

Jasper shot him an exaggerated wink before continuing. "Anyway, I looked into it and Bella, you were right. There is classified information that other vampires exist; and not only that, they're in Volterra. I can't be sure but my guess is that is what might have precipitated their whole change in attitude towards Edward. Now, more than ever, they need to know vampires' weaknesses, probably because they're scared that vampires will attack us."

"Despite the fact that they've hidden themselves for what is most likely hundreds of years," I said dryly.

"Don't concern yourself with logic, Bella. This is pre-emptive war." I shuddered at the grave tone in Jasper's voice, the sinister shadow that crossed his face.

I snuck a look at Edward, noting that he had been conspicuously quiet during this rather revelatory conversation. He was in bad shape, his eyes drooping with exhaustion. I grasped his hand and brought it quickly to my lips, feeling both thrilled and odd at displaying my affection for him. He gave me a weak smile back, and even though it was just the tips of his mouth turning up, it made me feel like perhaps I ought to show him how I felt more often.

"So what do we do?" I asked.

"Well, there's not much to be done, I'm afraid," Jasper said, frowning. "I have no idea how high up this goes or how many people are involved. And with Edward getting weaker by the second, we have no choice but to get out of here."

Suddenly, all the pieces began to fit together. "We're all going to Volterra."

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Soooo here it is. A lot of you are a whole bunch smarter than me and figured this out, although the theories about Bella/her blood/her kiss being his cure were so interesting to me

I'll update soon but in the meanwhile, whatcha thinking?


	8. Chapter 8: (Non) Human Resources

Hi guys! As always thank you so much for all the reviews and love and sweetness. I adore you guys and I love love love reading your reactions and thoughts. This chapter may require you to suspend your disbelief a good amount but I hope you enjoy it.

Thank you always to BuriedAlive and arfalcon and you're all the best readers anyone could want!

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**Esprit De Corpse**

_Suddenly, all the pieces began to fit together. "We're going to Volterra." _

Chapter Eight: (Non) Human Resources

Jasper nodded stonily. "Eventually, yes, that is the plan. But it's going to be a little more complicated to get there."

"Not for Bella," Edward pointed out, smiling slightly. "She's already declared to anyone who may have bugged the room that she's going there."

I realized that when Jasper had said we were in more danger than we could imagine, he wasn't just talking about Edward; he meant me, too. There's no way they'd let me get to Italy. And if they weren't going to get rid of me here, perhaps not to arouse suspicion and keep Edward in the dark, then... "They're going to kill me before I can get to Volterra. Aren't they?"

Grim-faced, Jasper didn't say anything, only swinging his gaze over Edward, whose golden eyes had gone wide. "That's what I'm worried about. If I can get enough time to get Edward some human, uncontaminated blood, then he'll be stronger than ever. We won't have to worry about his safety any longer. But you... they will absolutely go after you. And they know you're Edward's weakness."

I slid my eyes over to him. "What?" I asked. "No joke about how you have no weaknesses?"

Edward gave me a withering glance. "I'm lying here in bed, so stuck on the fact that you could have been dead by now that I can't think past it. I think it would be foolish to even try and deny that I do have a weakness. And she looks damn good in a pant suit." He grinned, though he grimaced with the effort of it a moment later.

I rolled my eyes and Jasper laughed, looking relieved to find some excuse for levity.

"I would have thought they might actually try to get information out of you, except—and I can't believe I'm saying this—thanks to Agent Newton's horribly sexist and completely inaccurate assessment, they basically think you're nothing but a glorified secretary, hopelessly enamored with Edward. You're not a threat, but you're a complication."

I nodded. I never thought there'd be a day where I'd be thankful for Agent Newton, but I guess it was true: everything did happen for a reason. Jasper cleared his throat awkwardly, sneaking looks at us before flicking his eyes back to the ground when he spoke. "There is one option we haven't talked about."

"What?" I asked.

"It would solve the dual problem of Edward needing uncontaminated human blood to return to full strength and our need to protect you," Jasper continued, talking around the topic.

But I understood. "You mean, Edward should drink_ my_ blood... and turn me."

There was a stunned silence from Edward before he burst out. "No! That is ridiculous. I don't even know _how_ to turn someone. We have no idea whether I'd be saving you or killing you! Or what conditions are required for you to change into a vampire. Not to mention, Bella, that this is not a joke. It's not a small lifestyle change, it's not even a big one, like running away to Italy to try and find some vampires. This changes everything. And not necessarily for the better. I cannot—" He began to wheeze and Jasper and I rushed to his side. Wheezing was never a good sign for anyone; but when you were a vampire who didn't even need to breathe?

"Shhhh," I said, stroking his forehead to calm him down. He closed his eyes, taking unnecessary breaths until he could do so at a steady and even pace. I looked up at Jasper. "I don't think I can do that." Jasper nodded, but I had more to say because it wasn't cowardice that motivated my decision. "In addition to everything Edward just said, if I did ever make a choice like that… I wouldn't want it to be between death and becoming a vampire. The only way that decision can be accurately made, with its pros and cons weighed sensibly, is if I'm choosing between life and eternal life."

"I understand what you're both saying," Jasper replied, before turning to Edward. "But it's your life, Bella. Would you rather die than live forever? Would you really rather her die than change her?"

Edward said nothing, a clear indication of his stress and weakness, so I spoke for both of us. "I wish it were that simple. Even if I—or you, Jasper—were to just give him some of our blood now to get him a little healthier, from what Edward has told me, his eyes will change color and give away that we know about the blood being poisoned." Jasper nodded, but didn't take his eyes off Edward. He looked more in pain than ever, and I hated that we needed to tax him even further. But if Edward wasn't able to think properly, I felt like I was thinking too well, too fast. My heart was racing and ideas, options and decisions were presenting themselves to me.

"Well, if they want to kill me, Jasper," I said. "Why don't we beat them to it?"

"What?" Edward asked sharply.

"What do you mean?" Jasper asked.

"The best way to overcome a weakness is to get rid of it. If you kill me and get him back to full strength, Edward has no weaknesses," I said, thoughts whirring around my head.

"Wouldn't killing you defeat the whole point of, I don't know, _making sure that you stay alive at any cost_?" Edward asked, managing to let sarcasm drip from his every word despite his lack of energy.

I shook my head. "We fake my death."

Both Edward's and Jasper's eyes widened. "You can't possibly be serious," Edward breathed.

"I am very serious." Smirking because I could finally give Edward a taste of his own medicine, I continued, "Dead serious even."

"Bella, talk me through what you're thinking," Jasper said, ever the tactician.

"I think there's no way they'll let me get to Volterra. As soon as they can, they'll kill me; so I'll tell Edward I'm heading back to Seattle to take care of stuff for the company and fake my death on my way to the airport. It's clean for them; they won't need to monitor airports and I can sneak out of the country. The best thing we have going is that they are completely underestimating us: they don't suspect that we know what is going to happen or that you are helping us; my death will appear to be an accident—tragic for Edward, opportune for them."

"How would you fake your death?" Jasper asked.

I recalled the drive over to the hospital, where I'd been sick with worry. "There's a small forest a few miles from the airport. I can use that for cover while they scour the area and still easily get a flight out. I'll need a few things, though; some hair dye, a change of clothing—"

"I can get you those," Jasper said.

I nodded and continued. "And a fake passport—we'll need those too."

Edward cleared his throat and made an effort to sit up in bed, but wasn't able to till Jasper grasped his arm and helped him. "I have those. One for you and one for me, and Jasper, if you contact my associate Jenks, I'm sure we can rustle one up for Jasper." Answering my questioning gaze, he made an attempt to shrug. "I wanted to be prepared for any contingency."

"Edward Masen, a boy scout," I said, smiling. "Jasper, will you be able to get Edward han uncontaminated supply of blood?"

He nodded. "I'll work with Dr. Cullen—I bet he has the authority to get a decent amount of blood from the bank. Maybe from the civilian side of the hospital so we can avoid a trail here."

I nodded. "And then you can help him sneak out of here and find passage out of the country?"

Jasper nodded. "I'll do more than that, I'll get him out myself." Edward and I both looked sharply at him. Up until now, Jasper could have feasibly helped us and possibly walked away without any impact on his life. Leaving with us wouldn't just mean he had to give up his position in the army—it'd mean he'd have to give up his whole life. "I don't want to work for people who would treat someone like this," he explained. "They'll justify this by saying he doesn't have human rights, but once you cross that line it's a slippery slope. I don't want to think of what they will justify next."

I gave him a reassuring smile. "Thank you. Your loyalty to us is quite literally the reason that we'll survive—that is, if we actually survive. Without you, we would both already be dead, or worse."

He blushed, displaying his modesty. "Don't thank me; thank Dr. Cullen and his conscience."

"How do we do that?" I asked, wanting that.

"By offering him a chance to come with us," Edward spoke up. Jasper and I both swung our heads to look at him. "He can come with Jasper and me. He doesn't have to, but his aiding us indicates that he doesn't seem to approve of what's going on either. Maybe he has a family or other obligations, but we owe him everything. His bravery warrants a chance for him, too."

I smiled. It really was true; heroes came in all shapes and forms, and they all played different roles. Carlisle's bravery, his dedication to truth had made him a hero in his own right, just like Edward, just like Jasper. Just like me.

"Alright. Jasper, you'll ask him?" Jasper nodded. "Lastly, I'll need a car. It's fine if it's government-issued—better even, because they'll put a tracker in it, but I'll need to drive it alone, so I can engineer the crash and my death." Something occurred to me. "Not the forest. There's a river a few miles from here. I'll crash the car into it. Hopefully it's deep enough that it washes downstream so that it'll take a couple days to complete the search." By the time they realized I wasn't in the car, I would be long gone, and so would Edward, Jasper and possibly, Carlisle. I explained this to them.

For the first time since Jasper had entered the room, there was silence. There was a look in Jasper's eyes that felt familiar—it was admiration and respect. Edward's gaze brimmed with pride. I thrilled at having their eyes on me, having the answers and ideas that no one else had. For so long, Edward had been the hero—the superhero even, and I'd hung back, however happily, to help him. But now… it was my turn. Suddenly, I saw myself as the person Edward had always looked at me as. Smart and brave and loyal. I think I understood what his admiration, his respect, his trust, his gaze was always trying to tell me: I was as much a hero as he.

"Alright, well, then, within the next twenty four hours," Jasper said. "I'll get you what you need. When I turn the scrambler off, make sure to mention that you are going to leave and need a car at some point. You have to feed them the story in bits and pieces—the last whoever's listening to the bugs heard was that you were going to Volterra. Stage a fight or conversation that ends with him convincing you to go back to Seattle instead. I'm going to go; we've got a lot to do in very little time."

I turned to Edward after Jasper left. He was still sitting up, propped against the headboard of the bed. Jasper had taken the scrambler with him so we couldn't talk about anything. But all I could think was that, despite all the danger we were in right now, it was only about to get more crazy. And worse yet, Edward and I would be apart. I slid onto the bed next to him, and pulled him into my arms, letting his weight rest against me.

"So… tomorrow," Edward said, a little while later, after we'd staged an argument that ended with me agreeing to go back to Seattle. "You're going to leave me tomorrow." It was for the sake of the bug in the room but I pulled away to look into his eyes, knowing that it all had a double meaning.

"Tomorrow," I repeated. Tomorrow, we would separate. I would, to the knowledge of the world, die. He would shortly thereafter go on the run. Upon our deaths, Angela would take over the company and Edward's estate would be auctioned to charity. The lives we knew, the company we had worked so hard to build, our past and our planned futures— everything would end.

— # —

Tomorrow came and I found that the small amount of time spent frantically preparing alibis and false stories and making arrangements for me to leave the hospital left me no more ready to say goodbye to Edward. I wouldn't let myself think of it as the last time I would see him, and yet, the very notion of goodbye sunk my heart with its implied finality.

"Bella, I need to tell you something," Edward said quietly, a few moments before I was due to leave.

"After years and years of begging, you finally are serious about _something_ just as I'm leaving," I retorted, wanting to make a joke. _Needing_ to make a joke. Now I finally understood why Edward was rarely serious. Levity was all that kept me from falling to pieces.

His lips twitched up in a courtesy smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was soft and vulnerable. "I'm sorry." He didn't need to say more for me to understand what he meant. He was sorry I had to give up everything, leave my home, my country and my job and everything I knew. He was sorry that I had to give up my life.

But he was my life. He was the part I would want to keep above all the others. I sat down at the edge of his bed facing him, speaking the first thing that came to my mind. "Remember in _Iron Man 2_ when Tony Stark thought he was dying?"

He shot me a withering look. "You would bring up that… that _impostor_ while I'm at my weakest? You're a cruel woman, Bella Swan."

It was relief to hear him joke; perhaps he needed the humor as much as I did. Or perhaps—more likely actually—he knew I needed it and was indulging me, as he always did. "Well, you aren't misbehaving nearly as much as him, so you're obviously the better man."

"Believe me, if I had the strength to be misbehaving, you wouldn't be _sitting_ next to me on this bed."

I laughed, but remembered his words quickly. I couldn't leave him thinking he had to be sorry for anything; I wasn't, not where it concerned him. "Tony Stark won't ever be half the man you are," I told him. "You keep insisting you're not human, but the things you've seen, the life you've led, the choices you've made, the very essence of who you are only serves to convince me that you are not just a man; you're the greatest man I will ever know." I leaned down and kissed him, letting my hair fall around us like a curtain that sequestered us away from the real, horrible world. His arms slipped around me, and I knew the gentleness in the way he held me, the precious tenderness of his embrace wasn't because he was weaker. It was because he loved me. He loved me as much as I loved him.

When I pulled away, I could feel it; the despair of goodbye settled in around me.

"I have to go, " I said, and with one last squeeze of his hand, I moved to dash out of the room. When I turned to take one last look at him, he offered me a small smile, one that I could barely return. Before I could walk out the door, he called, "Bella!"

"Yes?"

"Just know that… even if this doesn't work…"

"Edward—" I didn't want to hear his goodbye; I didn't want to believe this could be the last thing he ever said to me.

"Just listen," he said, quietly but forcefully. There was nothing I could do but hear him out, nowhere I could look but at his honest, perfect face. "If this doesn't work and we never get our chance, you should know: there's been nothing better than being by your side. Six years with you made up for the hundred I spent alone. You were worth every moment of waiting I've ever done in my entire existence."

* * *

Two more chapters to go! Talk to me, lovelies.


	9. Chapter 9: Hard Dead Line

You guys are the best best best. Remember how I asked you to suspend your disbelief for the last few chapters? Well, if you're so inclined, you should continue.

Have I mentioned you guys are the best?

* * *

Chapter Nine: Hard Dead line

Admittedly, I had never given much thought to how I would die—though in the last few years, I probably had good reason to—but even if I had, I would not have imagined it would have been this complicated.

Jasper kept me company as we took the long elevator ride back to the surface and exited the less-restricted area of the hospital. We glanced at each other tensely and I couldn't help replaying his strict instructions from a few moments ago, when he'd pulled out that little device and turned to face me.

"Ten days, Bella," he had told me sternly. "You wait only ten days. If we're not in Volterra by then, it means that we're probably not going to get there and that you staying there is dangerous."

"So where should we meet after those ten days then?" I asked, keeping my tone even.

"Bella… if we haven't made it by ten days, chances are we—"

"Where should we meet after those ten days?" I asked again, this time forcefully. I refused to consider the alternative unless I had to. "What about Bern? There's this church Edward and I once went to—it was the only trip we've ever taken together since we didn't want to risk him being seen too much. We went to Italy and Switzerland and I made him go into this church, and he kept on pretending that all the crosses were burning him."

Jasper cracked a smile, though I could see it was reluctant. "Okay. Bern after ten days. But—"

"I know, Jasper," I replied. He nodded and turned to face forward again, flicking off the device and slipping it into his pocket.

We walked out of the hospital into the parking lot where my car was waiting for me. Jasper held the door open for me, nodding once as I slid in and turned on the engine. He shut the door and I rolled down the window. "Take care of him, please." I wanted to add that he should take care of himself, but there was no way to do so without raising suspicion.

He nodded once. "Be safe, Bella."

And then I drove off towards my death.

— | —

It's funny how your mind can wander in the midst of a critical situation. Out of nowhere, I suddenly recalled a key conversation between Edward and I from years ago.

I was at a strange point in life; on one hand, I had only been working for Edward for a year, so we were still establishing a dynamic. On the other hand, I had been working for Edward for a year, and felt like I knew him no better than I did after my first week. He was never unfriendly—in fact, he was rather jovial, but there was always a wall he had up. After a month or two, I had begun to notice that my job responsibilities were not increasing, as I had expected them to. The tasks I'd been assigned were largely administrative, and moreover, downright simplistic in their nature. I was far too qualified to be doing them. I would have been more angry about being stuck in a position that offered be scope for growth nor any challenge if I weren't so busy sticking my nose in his business. Not to mention the apologetic look in Edward's eyes I frequently saw.

That is, when I did see him. He was rarely around, preferring to assign tasks by email, leaving me to be his proxy at the few meetings he did have. By and large, I was left to my own devices.

But what Edward hadn't counted on was my need to solve problems, the innate strive I had within me. What he didn't know was that I _knew_. I knew what he was, even if I couldn't quite believe it. And some instinct in me—and perhaps the loneliness I thought I saw in him—compelled me to confront him about it.

This was the day: I had a rare face-to-face meeting with him and I was determined to tell him what I had found out.

"Well, that seems to be all, Ms. Swan," he said. His eyes flicked off the laptop in front of him and over to me; I had always thought they were strange. They were an odd golden color, unlike anything I'd ever seen on another person. And now I knew why.

Everything about him was different; it wasn't so much odd as it was extra. His hair lay a little too perfectly and he looked so handsome that sometimes he almost appeared to be villainous—something that appeared so beautiful had to be anything but. And it wasn't just his looks; his stride was a little too even, and the air seemed not to move around him when he did. His presence was marked by a distinct lack of solidity, almost like he wasn't corporeal.

He smiled at me, and it, too, gleamed a little too brightly, stretched a little too attractively. "If there's nothing else," he said, making a motion to stand.

"Actually, there is," I said, speaking in a rush. A slight wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows, and all of a sudden, he looked incrementally more real to me, unpracticed and off-guard.

"Yes?" he asked.

Now that the moment of truth had come, I couldn't believe I had even dared to bring it up. How did I know he wouldn't kill me the minute I spoke? Even with my theory that he didn't drink human blood, I had no idea how he would react.

Almost as if I was practicing the words before I spoke them, I whispered, "I know what you are."

Of course, what I hadn't known at the time was that Edward had supreme hearing and had heard what I'd said. Even without that knowledge, the range of emotions that flickered across his face told me he knew that I knew. It made him look more normal than I had ever seen him before; the sudden tenseness to his posture, the jut of his shoulders, the purse of his mouth—these were human behavioral indicators. I had surprised Edward.

"You what?" he asked.

Keeping my chin high and looking him in the eye, I told him, boldly, "Before you take this the wrong way—because you mistaking my intentions could end very badly for me, I'm not saying this to expose you. I just thought you should know that I know what you are."

He watched my face closely, almost as if trying to read my mind before smiling ever so slightly. "Well, go on, then. Say it out loud at least."

Refusing to blink or look away, I told him: "Vampire. You're a vampire."

Upon speaking the words, I had a sudden urge to laugh. It was ludicrous, what I had just accused him of. But his reaction only confirmed that it was the truth. He leaned back into his chair, assuming an air of casualness. "What gave it away? That I have pale, ice-cold skin? That my eyes that change color?"

"Yes, that and…" I replied. "I looked up your genealogy and saw that your so-called identity comes from two dead family lines. Very clever, choosing Elizabeth Roberts as your mother's name, by the way. It's one of the most common names in the last century, so I had a hell of a time narrowing it down. It's only because of that crest you have that I was able to." Edward's eyebrows jumped up and I continued, "I know what you're thinking."

He smiled very slightly. "That's usually my line," he mused, confusing me. "But I doubt you can fathom what I'm thinking right now."

I was still unused to Edward then, and still not sure whether I was signing my own death warrant by telling him all this. I couldn't stop to think about that or I'd panic, so I barreled on. "Where did I get the leap from dead end of a family tree to vampire, right? I traced some of your regular deliveries and found out they're shipments of animal blood—very clever using self-forwarding PO boxes to throw off the trail, by the way. If I didn't know the size of the package and arrival intervals, I would have never been able to trace it."

"You figured all of that out?" I nodded. "By yourself?"

I nodded again and added, "And don't worry. Once I figured out that you were a vampire… I realized that I didn't want to draw the attention of anyone who may be monitoring for these kinds of searches, so I looked into werewolves, and demons and all sorts of things." Once the words started, I couldn't stop. It had been six months since I'd started delving into what Edward was. It was a relief to finally be able to talk about it. "I even told people, like bookstore owners and librarians, that I was researching to write a YA book while I kept my living at a boring administrative job, so no one would be any wiser."

Edward's eyebrows shot up and he gave me an admiring look. In hindsight, if I could pinpoint the very moment Edward and I started to become… _us_, it would be this one. "Oh, I'm good."

I frowned in confusion. All of Edward's body language indicated that he was going to praise me, not himself. "_You're_ good?" I couldn't help asking incredulously.

He smirked. "Yes. I am very, very good. I am _so_ good, I didn't even realize that I had hired the smartest girl in the city. The country, maybe."

There was the praise, but it was disguised, not maliciously but almost…teasingly. Playfully, even. "Well, I'm glad you're such a genius then," I said, wryly. It was a strange new dynamic, joking with Edward.

"You should be. Genius, vampire, independent entrepreneur—not everyone is lucky enough to have such an interesting boss, you know," he said.

"Let's not forget the four months I spent terrified that my boss was going to _eat me_ before I found out about the animal blood," I retorted dryly. "But you are right; as far as interesting goes, vampire employer is definitely up there."

His expression softened incrementally and almost to himself, he said, "Vampire. You know. You know I'm a vampire and you're still sitting here."

It was an unmistakably human moment; the relief in his voice that screamed of loneliness and echoed my earlier sentiment, but amplified a million times. The relief I had felt just talking about this secret that I'd known for six months was nothing. How long had he been _living_ with this, all by himself?

With that one sentence, I was unconditionally and irrevocably on Edward's side.

"Don't think this means I'm going to be a pushover," I told him sternly. "Now that I know this? I expect full disclosure. Your history, your activities. Give me more responsibilities. I have a freaking MBA, for God's sake."

He fought a smile and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees to regard me keenly. "How do I know I can trust you?"

I rolled my eyes, sitting back. "You just said it yourself: I know you're a vampire and I'm still sitting here."

He was silent for a moment before breaking into a beatific, boyish grin that transformed his whole face. "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship," he said, his smile sliding into that smirk that would dominate so many of our conversations.

"Really? Couldn't even come up with an original line?" I teased, feeling a sudden, strange sort of burgeoning freedom with Edward. "Had to steal one from a movie that I'm probably right in assuming you saw in theaters upon its original release?"

His smile skewed sideways. "You're going to keep me on my toes," he said, his voice admiring.

Yes. I had kept him on his toes. And taken care of him and stood by him and done all the things he had done for me. Even though at the time I knew it was monumental, it was only in hindsight that I saw how that conversation and my honesty with him paved the way to what Edward and I would become. How it led the path to where I was today, on the outskirts of Volterra in a car I rented under an alias, Marie Dwyer. Perhaps to protect itself, my mind had shut itself to thinking over the last harrowing few days: faking a car crash and setting it up to look like my death and then, terrified to my very core, trying to hide in plain sight as I caught a flight to Rome from one of the busiest airports in the US.

But I had done it, all by myself, even as my hands shook and I was sure I was caught at every checkpoint or with every glance someone threw my way. I had managed to get out of the country and to Italy.

With a sudden, renewed sense of necessity, I pressed my foot against the gas pedal and sped towards the town of Volterra. The time Edward and I had visited, there had been some sort of festival for creatures that eerily resembled vampires. Everyone had been in the town square, decked out in robes with red hoods. But now, for the most part, the small streets were empty. I parked the car and hopped out, my brain racing to figure out a new plan of action. Once Edward and Jasper got here—and I refused to think 'if' because they would; they _had_ to—we'd be stuck if I didn't find some leads. I needed to find a vampire; or at least, more wisely, find out some information about vampires and wait till Edward got here to go looking for one. But where to start? A local library perhaps?

Somewhat blindly, I roamed the streets. I had barely any resources, no phone, very little money. I needed to find a place to stay, somewhere I could keep a low profile, since no doubt, the government would already have someone hiding out here.

I rounded the corner and saw that I'd reached a dead end. But when I turned around, there were four people standing behind me. That I hadn't heard them approach on the noisy cobblestone streets was a testament to the stealth smoothness of their movement.

But as I looked at them, I noticed some defining features: stunning, disconcerting beauty; pale, perfect skin; old, endless eyes. The air around them was static, as if they moved in it, not through it. Even though they looked as different from each other as possible, all of them shared that eerie perfection.

I didn't have to worry about finding vampires in Volterra.

They had found me.

* * *

So...? Thoughts? Ramblings? Feel like yelling? What you wanna say, I wanna hear!


	10. Chap 10: A New Start Up (with) Company

Chapter Ten: A New Start Up (with) Company

Relativity was a funny thing. These last ten days had seemed like the longest of my life, but now that this day was here, I felt like it had come too soon. So much had happened in the last few days since I'd arrived in Volterra that it felt closer to a year since I had left Edward and Jasper. But at the same time, I couldn't fathom that today was what Jasper and I had agreed on as our initial deadline. How were Edward and Jasper supposed to make it in such short time? How could I go to Bern knowing that if they didn't show up there, I might never seem them again?

"Relax, Bella," Alice said, putting a hand on my shoulder. Alice and I had come here, leaving Rosalie, Emmett and Esme back at what was my new home. When Alice and the others had found me my first day in Volterra, she explained that while she had no idea who I was, she had a unique gift that enabled her to know who I would be to them: a friend. I told them that I knew another vampire with a unique gift and from there, they'd taken me in. I'd spent the last nine days learning as much as I could about their histories, both as individuals and of the collective vampire population, and explaining what had happened to Edward.

"Remind me again why you can't tell if they're going to make it or not?" I asked.

"I've already explained it to you three times!" she chided.

"Forgive me, Alice, but it's going to take a little longer for me to understand how this... gift of yours works. Especially since I don't have vampire levels of super-comprehension."

"You do more than fine with your human comprehension." She rolled her eyes, but indulged me anyway. "My gift is very nebulous. I can't predict the future, but I can predict outcomes of decisions; if someone is choosing between several options, I'll often see three or four versions of the future. It's strengthened by proximity and familiarity—which is why I only saw you _after_you arrived in Volterra since I'd never met you. And while I can isolate and focus on the visions of one person, I don't know how to search for someone's future if I've never met them."

I nodded. "Right. I know. It makes sense in a totally convoluted way. I just... it's the last day, Alice."

She smiled and placed a hand on my shoulder. Despite the cold temperature of her skin, it was comforting. "I know. But you've done all that you can, Bella; in a little over a week, you've learned more about the vampire race than many vampires do in their entire existences. And we're here, waiting; this road is the only way to get in and get out of Volterra. We'll stay here till night and if they don't come, we'll go to Bern with you and regroup from there."

While it was reassuring to have a plan, the idea of leaving Volterra without Edward terrified me. It felt less like a contingency plan and more like the beginning of a worldwide wild goose chase, leading to me never seeing Edward again. Still, the one thing I could say was that I had far more information than I thought I ever would. Alice and the others filled in so many of the missing pieces; now if only Edward and Jasper, the two most crucial pieces, would come.

I gave her a small, tight smile and said, "You're right. Thank you."

She plopped down on the grass next to me, and we both stared at the beautiful stretch of grass, carpeting the small rolling hills that sat underneath a perfect blue sky. "Tell me more stuff," she said, nudging me with her shoulder.

I smiled. She'd made this request several times over the last few days; she, Esme, even Emmett, had indulged me, letting me talk on and on about Edward and my years with him. "Well, Edward once—" I began but she cut me off.

"No, tell me about this Jasper guy. He sounds cute. And what better pick up line can there be than 'I can see the future, and guess what? You're in mine,'" she joked, making an overly lascivious expression. She and Edward were going to get along like a house on fire. I threw my head back and began to laugh, but suddenly, the noise caught in my throat.

Because that's when I saw it.

Three figures, crossing just over the horizon and walking determinedly toward us. Even though their features were obscured by distance, I recognized one thing—the hair color of the person in front. A shade so unique, so natural that even though I had seen it every day for six years, it still seemed unreal. Normally mahogany-hued, today it was shining, glinting almost, like a new penny in the unadulterated Italian sunshine.

I wouldn't need to go to Bern. I wouldn't need to worry or despair. I wouldn't be alone.

They were here.

_Edward _was here.

And he was upright, healthy and grinning, his sparkling skin making him look more like a mirage than reality.

But he _was_ real. I leapt to my feet and took off down the hill, running across two more before jumping into his arms, not caring who saw or how ridiculous I looked. His quick reflexes enabled him to drop the duffel bag he was carrying and his arms ably caught me, quickly tightening around my waist as he lifted me slightly off the ground. I kissed him all over his face, a strange mix of franticness and delight, making him laugh heartily.

"You're here, you're here, you're here," I kept muttering, almost unable to believe it. In full health, back to the man I'd known all these years, Edward was here. We'd made it.

A not-so-subtle throat clearing reminded me that he wasn't the only one here. I pulled away from Edward, and he placed me back on the ground so I could hug Jasper tightly. "Thank you," I told him. "Thank you for so many things, Jasper."

"Well, it's nice to be remembered," he retorted wryly. I playfully punched his arm before turning to the man next to him.

"Dr. Cullen," I said, extending my hand to him.

He grimaced. "It's just Carlisle now. I doubt my license will count for anything now."

I smiled, sympathetically. The joy and relief of the reunion made this moment an inexpressibly happy one, but sooner or later, the sacrifices we made, the lives we gave up and the challenges of the new lives we had taken up would present themselves. "In my eyes, you went above and beyond to uphold your Hippocratic oath," I told him firmly. "That makes you a doctor to me, certification or not."

He smiled. "Well, then, at least call me Carlisle for the sake of abandoning formality. I think we're all going to be spending quite a bit of time together."

Edward chuckled from behind me. "I'm fairly sure that all the three of us want right now is to get a break from each other for a few hours." Jasper and Carlisle laughed, and I could see ia palpable ease between them. The things they had been through in the last few days had helped them form a bond of loyalty and affection that was apparent.

"Well, even if it's not with each other, I hope you're up for some company," I said, trailing off ambiguously on purpose. The three men turned towards me, looking slightly confused, but I didn't say anything. However, I couldn't help but smirk as Edward's eyes went wide after a few moments. No doubt his senses were picking up Alice, who had come bounding down to where we stood. Upon seeing her, Jasper's eyes widened but I suspected for different reasons than Edward's.

"We'll you've certainly kept me waiting long enough," she declared. Grabbing Jasper's hand, she waved for Carlisle to follow her in that terribly bossy yet endearing way I'd gotten used to in the last ten days. They headed over the small hill, leaving Edward and me alone, though I knew we were expected to follow.

Edward's expression was one of confusion and curiosity as he was no doubt was bewildered by reading Alice's mind. "Bella, she…"

"Can see the future? Or rather, can see the outcomes of decisions that are made? Yes," I said, nodding, grinning at his befuddlement. Whatever new dynamic was set up, it was certainly going to be interesting. Not only would Edward be among vampires—ones who shared his proclivities for consumption of animal rather than human blood—but he'd no longer be the only one with a special power.

"How did this happen? What is going on?" he asked, eyes wide with a new type of hunger, a curiosity for the world I'd never seen in him before. It suddenly dawned on me that for the first time in one hundred years, Edward's world was no longer static. The discovery of other vampires had changed everything.

I smiled. "We have allies."

"Allies?" he repeated.

"Allies; ones who are going to help us. Running away was only the first part of this, Edward. We're going to fight back," I tell him. "What they did was wrong; they can't cheat us out of our lives, not when we were cooperating with them the whole time."

"You found… vampires," he said, incredulous.

"Well, technically they found me. Turns out Alice saw me coming with that peculiar gift of hers. You'll have to read her mind and give me a little insight into it since I don't quite understand it. Anyway, I'm getting off track. Alice, Esme, Rose, Emmett, they're just like you—they consume animal blood too. And moreover, they're all…" I let out a fond laugh. "Quite wonderful." I reassessed that statement. "Well, not Rosalie. But she'll grow on us, Alice has assured me."

"There are other vampires in the world," Edward said, his tone one of wonder. A beat passed and then he frowned exaggeratedly, overextending his bottom lip in a comic pout. "That means I'm not special anymore."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh don't worry. You're still all kinds of special. But at least… you're not alone, Edward."

His smile was uncharacteristically soft. "I believe I'm paraphrasing you when I say I haven't been alone for six years now."

I smiled back, slipping my hand into his and squeezing. "And you won't ever be again."

"Does that mean you're going to…"

I let out a deep breath and shrugged. "I don't know. But… Rosalie turned Emmett and he's fine. Thriving, even. So, it's something we can think about seriously." He nodded, but before we could get too bogged down with the future, I knew we needed to take care of the present. "But that's a matter for later. Right now, we've got an alliance to form. Alice says she knows several covens that we may be able to find support from."

Edward's eyebrows shot up as he took a step closer to me, grinning. I had always known he was handsome, but forced myself to see it with an arms-length objectivity. Now I could think freely that he had to be the most beautiful man I had ever seen, especially with that brilliant smile on his face. "I let you out of my sight for a little time and you become leader of a vampire partisanship."

I laughed. "I'm hardly the leader. I think we both know that role suits others better; my invaluable contribution comes in the shape of behind-the-scenes support."

"'Invaluable contribution?'" Edward's look at me with admiration. "I like that you've finally started to acknowledge your true worthiness."

I shrugged. "I guess a lot did happen in the last ten days or so."

"They were excruciating, by the way," he says.

The smile dropped off my face. Of course I saw him now, healthy and happy and whole. It made it easy to forget how much pain he'd been in; I didn't even know what he and Jasper had been through to get here. "Was recovery really hard?" I asked, cupping his face with my free hand.

He snorted in dismissal. "Recovery? No. Being away from you? Torture. Turns out there's a reason so many people keep their heart to themselves, but I insisted on giving you mine and then I let you leave me." He placed a hand where his beating heart ought to be and made an exaggerated expression of woe. "Wounded me greatly."

I rolled my eyes at how he always managed to twist the story so he came out either the victim or the victor—in many cases, one in the same. But the truth was, I was elated to see him back to his joking, silly self. I wiggled my hand under his so it rested flat on his chest. "I think you'll heal in the next few days."

He grinned. "You'll help me then?"

"I suppose I can nurse you back to health," I teased.

"Oh, I like this. I can be the ailing patient, you the naughty nurse."

I made a face of exasperation, even as I inwardly considered his words. In addition to our freedom, our new companions and whatever endeavor we embarked on hereafter, we had another new world to explore: each other. One where we could kiss and touch and know all the things we had known all along and learn so many new ones. A world where we acted on the way we felt. I looked at Edward, wondering if he was thinking of this as well, thinking of how our kisses, the actions we'd take to protect each other, the words we'd left each other with had demolished the lines we'd drawn around us.

But of course, just because our whole world had changed in the last two weeks, it didn't mean Edward had to change.

"By the way, you're fired," he informed me, nonchalantly.

"I'm _what?"_ I nearly shouted.

He shrugged, as if terminating me with no actual grounds for doing so was no big deal. "Fired. You are dead after all." Perhaps he had a point there. "Coincidentally, that's something we have in common."

"Well, birds of a feather and all that," I conceded, and crossed my arms over my chest in a bit of a huff. "But I still resent being fired. If I were alive, I'd sue you for wrongful termination."

"If you were alive, you wouldn't be alive," he said, face scrunching as he considered his confusing words. "You know what I mean."

"Rarely."

"But even if we were still with Masen, Inc. I'd have to fire you. And if we're ever going to conduct any sort of business together, you can't be my subordinate. Firstly, because you are, as you've demonstrated over the last two weeks, and I'm predicting will continue to demonstrate over the next few months, hardly less deserving of authority than I am."

I relaxed my posture, willing myself to learn how to accept the compliment rather than barrel past it. "Well, thank you. Not that I ever felt secondary to you. You never let me. But I appreciate how magnanimous you are being."

"It's a matter of principle. But it's not all magnanimity."

"It's not?" I asked.

He made dismissive noise. "Hardly. You cannot be my subordinate because I'm not going to sit through a sexual harassment seminar every time I kiss you." He gave me his most charming smile, one that somehow completely exasperated and enamored me at once. "Which will be often."

I smiled but refused to give in. Like I said, Edward hadn't changed, and neither had I, even if _we_ had changed. "Fine. I'm interested to see how you're going to get anything done."

He slid an arm around my waist. "Well, I'm firing you, not banishing you from my life. Quite the contrary, actually."

I was unable to resist turning to face him. "Fair enough. But all those things I did for you that you hated doing? Dry cleaning and arranging transport and all that? Those were executive-assistant duties. They're Pepper Potts duties. Not girlfriend duties."

"Is there anyway we can make them transferable?" he asked, knowing he was pushing it.

"No."

He slid his other arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. "Can't you be my girlfriend _and_ my executive assistant _and _my equal partner in business? "

I shook my head. "Can't have your cake and eat it too."

He pouted exaggeratedly and my heart lifted, so happy to see playful Edward again. "You're taunting me. I can't eat cake."

"I guess then, you'll just have to have _me_." I slid my arms around his neck.

There was a heady mix to his expression; an irresistible combination of happiness in his smile and the glint in his eye that told me, even before his lips touched mine, that he _would_ have me, and I would have him and it would be the most amazing thing in the world.

His lips were gentle when they pressed against mine, but they were full of intention, full of potential. As his mouth slowly, teasingly brushed mine, I thought I might explode from the anticipation of everything that was to come between us. Edward had once joked that the sexual tension between us was killing him, and I finally knew exactly what he meant. I pressed forward, kissing him more deeply. He could show me his gentlemanly intentions, but I no longer wanted to take it slow. Six years, and then ten days that felt like ten years—they'd all led to this. No more waiting.

This was our time.

When Edward pulled away slowly a few minutes later, he nodded slightly, almost to himself. His eyes were still closed and the edges of his mouth tilted up in a tiny smile; he looked like he was in an otherworldly state of bliss. I shared the feeling.

"Mmm, yes," he said, almost under his breath. "You're definitely fired."

I laughed and took his hand, pulling him to me as we headed down the hill, toward the rest of our lives, as long as that would be.

"You know… I've been thinking about Vampman," he said.

I groaned. "Still? After all this? Edward, you're ridiculous."

He held up a hand to indicate he wanted to continue. Then as if realizing that he could, he gently pressed his index finger to my lips, smiling. "As I was saying, I was thinking about Vampman and how... I'm not him, at all. It's _you _who has saved me. Repeatedly. Five years ago when you confronted me, ten days ago when you left me, and now again, by coming back to me."

I squeezed his hand and teased, "Technically, you came to _me_."

"That's a good point," he said, grinning. "So it's _you_ that deserves the moniker, not me. SuperBella."

I laughed. "SuperBella. I like it."

"Me too. I demand we get you a costume immediately. And if it has to be made completely of spandex... so be it. We'll just have endure, somehow." I just looked on in amusement as he rambled on to himself. Abruptly, he stopped talking and turned to me and gently caressing my face, said, "What I'm trying to say is not just that you're a hero, Bella. It's that your _mine." _He batted his eyelashes wildly at me, and placed a hand on his chest, pretending to swoon before continuing in a ridiculous Southern-accented falsetto, "My hero."

Yes, yes, I was.

_Fin._

* * *

So that's it! I hope you enjoyed reading it and felt satisfied by the ending—there won't be a sequel or any outtakes. I'd always planned it up to just this point and I think that your imaginations are probably better than mine as to what might happen next.

Thank you SO, SO much to BuriedAlive. S, your patience and sweetness was beyond, and I'm so glad I could write this for you. Thanks, two and a half years later.

There aren't words to describe how amazing Anne/arfalcon. If you have her in your life, you're very lucky—I know I am. Thank you, A, for all you do.

Of course, always always always, thank you guys. Somehow, you're always even kinder, smarter and more rewarding readers than I imagine and it blows me away.


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